


Blooms at Sundown

by BalletOrchid



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02, Romance, Sexy Times, Smut, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, din hasn't taken his helmet off in front of anyone before cause i say so, kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalletOrchid/pseuds/BalletOrchid
Summary: Din might have rathered died than have the stranger take off his helmet to save his life.But being unconscious when being saved...complicates things.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 145





	1. The Opening

**Author's Note:**

> So....I know we just wrapped up Wrest Pin. But I've been plotting this story for sometime now. And now that Wrest Pin is done I can finally write it, yay! No pregnancy in this one, don't worry. I don't know if I can emotionally do that again. But I do hope you all enjoy this work! Let's buckle up for another bumpy ride. I expect it to be another thirty or so chapter fic, but we shall see. I've got it plotted but not divided into chapters, so that's typically a surprise for me when the time comes!
> 
> IMPORTANT: This story takes place after season 2. However, I'm taking creative liberties in that, Din never removed his helmet in front of Mayfeld or Grogu before his departure. Now for the emo opening!

_The kid stared at him over the Jedi’s shoulder._

_He imagined never seeing Grogu’s face again, after having just learned his name…A name to go with a face he had been staring at for weeks and weeks and weeks…Looking for the people he belonged with. And he had finally found the Jedi, but at what cost? Because the moment they were departing, he had realized something deep in his chest, like a plague of truth._

_Grogu had belonged with him all along._

The first thing he was aware of was pain.

It didn’t come in a rush, all at once to smother him. It came gradually, because that was how the real world returned to him as well. Seconds at a time…Colors at a time, as his eyes cracked open to allow in light. The pain turned into the realization there was softness beneath his body, the realization that his chest ached when he tried to expand it and shrink it to welcome air into his lungs…The absolute hurt from his left leg, far more painful than the rest of his body…Not sharp, but definitely a deep stomach churning pain that made him blink over and over again past his blurry vision. He could see the ceiling about his head, dark wood with small plant pots hanging from it on hooks drilled in. He smelled something like burning oil…He couldn’t recognize it in his nose, but a low groan escaped the back his throat as he tried to make sense of everything he was feeling all at once.

When his vision focused, he tried to recall the last of his memories. He had been aboard a ship, one he had just purchased to return to bounty hunting…To recover some semblance of normal in his old life, the life he had been living before the kid and before the departure. Before and before and before. It was like times he could not reach, and the ship had gone down – it had been a piece of shit…He couldn’t remember what exactly had happened. He had pissed someone off, they had shot him down above some green planet.

The last thing he remembered was seeing trees below.

Maybe that was a blessing, because the aches he felt indicated it had been some crash. But he didn’t know where he was, and Mando was starting to feel crazy as he dug his fingers into what he knew to be a mattress below him, carefully pushing himself to his elbows. To his surprise, he was…naked. Though he was partially covered by a quilt, and he was in an old bed that creaked with his movements…He stared at his left leg, and found it was bruised…held steady with some kind of hard splint that was doing a really good job, tied tightly. His chest and abdomen had several patches of sutures, as if he had been hit with shrapnel or glass or something in the crash, and his head swam…But the moment he reached up to touch his forehead, horror clung.

His helmet.

His armor.

It wasn’t on him, and he was almost certain he hadn’t been the one to splint his leg and suture his own wounds. Something cold settled in his stomach, a deep realization of what the armorer had warned of someone else taking off his helmet. Of what he had told Cara – of never being able to put it back on. There wasn’t a word to describe it except complete panic and like he had been dropped into frigid water…His body shooting up quickly – brown eyes nearly popping out of his head as he tried to process this new information. The grief for the kid being taken away quickly overflowed with a new grief, a new anger, a new burning rage that he had once again lost another thing that had been his entire life.

It was never meant to be like this.

He had always intended to die with that damned helmet on his head if he had to. Had he been conscious, he would have never allowed its removal.

Mando looked around – maybe he wasn’t even Mando anymore. Not a Mandalorian, a pretend like Bo-Katan and the others, but then again…They weren’t pretend. He had no idea who he was. What he was. Like he had lost it all in the seconds it took to come to the waking world, and he wished to go back into an oblivion that told him he was dead. Maybe he would have been better off that way. A warrior’s death, on a stupid crashed ship and he couldn’t find his blasters, his belt as he looked around what seemed to be a living room. But there was a bed, and it made little sense – a fireplace, a door to the outside. The windows were open allowing a breeze, flowerpots in the windows and he could see a door open that led into a kitchen and then –

Someone appeared around the corner.

Mando had pushed himself to the edge of the mattress, his splinted leg out and his other one bent as he gripped the bedding below him, the quilt still shielding him around his waist. The person processed in his vision that was still a bit dark at the edges with both pain and rage and confusion. A girl, with brown eyes and long hair pulled back from her face. She had on an apron, and he wondered if she was burning something, the smell of the oil still in his nose as if clinging and her appearance was concerned and she rubbed her hands on the apron that sat over a dress…Her feet bare when she came forward quickly, waving her hands worriedly…

“No, no, no! Don’t get up!”

The moment she was in arm’s length – Mando snapped.

It was as if she was the closest thing, and his world had suddenly come tumbling down and she was seeing his face – and if he had to guess she was the one that had removed his helmet. Mando grabbed her harshly, roughly yanking her down by her arm causing her to let out a surprised scream. He turned her around, hand wrapping around her throat as he brought her back to his chest, her head under his chin as she was forced to kneel between his legs where he sat on the bed. Her hand went to his on her throat, where he squeezed in just the slightest to make her stay still and warn her to respond accordingly…His anger towards her only growing as he held her there, her breathing uneven –

“What the fuck –“ He barely got to begin, but words were tumbling from her mouth messily where she was turned from him, trying to pry his hand from her neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I startled you!” She apologized, “You’re going to pull out your stitches –“

Mando leaned down and yanked her further up, eliciting a frightened sound from her as he growled, “Where the _hell_ is my armor?”

“I-I took it off,” He couldn’t see her face, as she stuttered, “I found you…You-You’re ship crashed in the woods about a mile from here – I-I…Saw it come down, you were hurt very badly…So I brought you here – I’m a…I’m a healer, I take care of the people from the nearby town sometimes.”

Mando shook her, and a part of him…The more rational part knew her words were true. He remembered crashing, and his anger was misplaced with her for taking his armor off…Like he had figured she had done. He leaned forward, speaking into her ear coldly, “Why did you take off my helmet?”

She was silent…As if she didn’t understand the question. She was trembling below his hand, and that logical – rational piece of him kept telling him to let her go…That her intentions had not been to break his Creed. That her intentions had not been to harm him…And yet – and yet it was as if everything was crashing like that damned ship. Grogu was gone, his armor was gone, his Creed…Everything. His ship, his new ship – he had very little faith he was going to be able to do this, and her hand squeezed his again, trying to alleviate the pressure on her throat as she explained hesitantly…

“You were dying,” She whispered, “You were…I had to take it off to help you.”

Her chest continued to heave, and after some mental convincing, Mando released her neck. She was quick to shoot forward, standing to her feet and whirling to face him. Mando saw her face was pink, her eyes red with unshed tears with fear etched into her features when he finally saw her. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and Mando wondered what she was thinking as he averted his eyes – no helmet to assist him in hiding all of that upset from his own face and the urges to drive his fist through the nearby wall in response to this new revelation on top of all the others that had come in just a few weeks. He saw her gently placed her fingers on her throat, as if assessing for damage before her eyes settled on his abdomen and she breathed deeply…

“You pulled one…”

Mando looked down, seeing that she was correct. He had in fact pulled one of the stitches, blood dripping down his skin. She stood still for a few moments, before she turned and went into the kitchen, returning only a moment later. As she got closer, Mando pulled the quilt over himself more, and she only hesitated slightly…Looking at him with fear on her face – clearly withdrawn from him grabbing her throat. She had a metal case in her hands and she questioned him…

“Do you mind?”

Mando let out an annoyed exhale before looking away and she must have taken it as a yes because she came forward anyway, quickly kneeling in front of him between his legs. She snapped open the metal box, beginning to dig through it and Mando glanced at her face. She was still pink…Her throat red from him gripping it and he figured – he had been too harsh, but Maker, it made him so angry…So angry that he had gone so long with no one removing it and some _healer_ does it all in a matter of moments without his knowledge when men twice her size have tried.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he the kid wasn’t gone. If all of that hadn’t happened, if he had just realized sooner…But then he told himself he had – he had to. It was where the kid belonged. It wasn’t safe with him, he wasn’t safe. Not for the kid. And Mando didn’t even flinch when the girl cleaned the wound, beginning to suture it back together after pulling the other stitches out to start over. Her hands were steady, he knew she wasn’t lying about being a healer then, her face focused…her tongue between her lips as she narrowed her eyes to get it perfect. A part of him wanted to shake her, ask her if she understood what she had done, if she had any sort of inkling…But he knew she didn’t. Not from the way she had spoken, sounding taken aback by his aggression and yet she still kneeled in front of him to help him.

Mando noticed small scars on her fingers, from what appeared to be long ago cuts. When she finished she tied off the suture, beginning to put everything back into the box and despite her hands being steady – her shoulders were not…Her eyes barely lifting to meet his, and he was quick to avert his own. Mando couldn’t – he couldn’t recall the last time someone had looked into his face…Had seen his features, had seen him without his helmet. Maker, he had been so young then…And now – now he didn’t know what to do, as he looked away and away…Unsure, and uncomfortable in his own skin. Not just his face exposed but literally sat bare in front of her, knowing she had stripped him.

She stood, holding the box closer to her chest. She appeared to pause, studying him, but he still would not look at her…Wishing desperately for something to shield his expressions.

“I am…again very sorry I startled you,” She was speaking slowly, and Mando managed to force himself to look at her as she went on, “I’ve treated warriors before when they have come through, I should have known not to rush you the way that I did. I saw your armor and your weapons, I assume that’s what you are, yes?”

She had an accent of some kind. Voice gentle and very much the voice of a healer. Someone who was used to dealing with contrary people and he couldn’t believe she was apologizing to him when he had gripped her throat and handled her the way he had…When he was still quite obviously angry with her, catching himself glaring into her face that was nothing but soft and kind towards him. Mando managed to nod mutely, and she nodded as well, continuing, “Don’t pull your stitches again, and I won’t rush you. I worked very hard on them, stay in bed. You haven’t a need to worry, I’ve nursed many people. Men, women, and children…”

She paused, glancing at his leg, “Your leg will probably take some time to heal. I had to perform surgery on it. It was very bad off, but I mended it. Again…Don’t try to get up, I really don’t want to fight you.”

Her voice was firm. Almost like a mother, and Mando narrowed his eyes. He had quite easily grabbed her even in his injured state, so the threat of fighting seemed silly on her part. He continued to have his eyes set on her, unyielding. He did not speak to her, because this was wrong. He knew by Creed it was wrong – the fact that she was looking into his face. And she didn’t know – didn’t appear to care much, probably blamed his aggression on his injuries. He didn’t know how to feel, and he didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, he had no desire to verbally respond and simply looked away from her.

Mando was aware he could barely move…That getting up and leaving wasn’t an option. He saw her shift uncomfortably in the silence before she put the metal box in one arm and reached out her hand with another in offering, saying…

“I’m Lydia…Lydia Eris. I promise, I’m very well trained and capable of tending your wounds.”

Mando looked at her hand, before his eyes lifted to her face. He remained in his silent shell, eyes cold he knew – outward appearance unapproachable. He wanted her to get away before he absolutely lost it. Mando didn’t know if he could lose anymore. He didn’t know if he could swallow another pill after the kid left. And this – this was something he had spent his entire life believing and yet he had lost it in just a moment of unconsciousness.

The girl’s hand lowered slowly when he didn’t take it, her eyes leaving his as she clearly bit the inside of her cheek at the rejection. She rocked back on her heels, before nodding her head in an acceptance that was understanding in a way he himself could not understand. She cleared her throat, “Where were you headed when you crashed?”

And still, Mando said nothing.

Perhaps he was being cold for no reason. Perhaps he was taking out his anger on the closest person he could find, but that self-awareness did nothing to change his attitude. Eventually she moved away in another form of acceptance, before she moved back towards the kitchen she had come from. She spoke over her shoulder, sounding hesitant, “It’s nearly afternoon, I’ll make you something to eat and some tonic for your pain. I’m sure you’re hurting.”

She disappeared into the kitchen. Mando ground his teeth, looking at the space she left, then at the fireplace. He held his fists, as not to do anything stupid where he sat…Unable to stand, to leave. Feeling as helpless as he had when Grogu was leaving with the Jedi, knowing his words of assurance that they would see each other again were probably a lie. A lie to comfort the child and he wondered if he knew Mando had been lying in that moment.

Mando pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose, and he let out a frustrated breath.

…

Her guest was odd.

Truthfully, on their little green planet, Lydia had met many strange travelers that had needed help. Form soldiers to pirates, to children with skinned knees, to mothers giving birth – she had cared for all of them. It was always the warriors and soldiers that were so quiet, but this one was different. She could say honestly, she had never been grabbed that way by a patient before, even when she had startled them from nightmares. She had been smacked sure in their stupor, but this man seemed far angrier than frightened from some far away memory. Angry about his armor, about her even being there…Almost as if he was angry at her for even treating him for his wounds.

Lydia put the vegetables from the garden in her basket, glancing at her small cottage where the vines grew up the sides of the old wood, and the smoke from the fireplace rose into the evening sky. She almost didn’t want to go back inside. He didn’t quite frighten her, she kept her blade tucked below her skirt to her thigh…If she had needed, she would have fought back. Or at least thrashed, but in the moment, she hadn’t felt she was in any particular danger…Even if she didn’t know the man well.

His expressions and his glares deterred her the most. It felt like he was digging into her skin when he had looked at her, angry and burning – like he had seen his entire world come up in flames and she felt he saw her as the source of it all. Lydia didn’t quite understand…She had not been the reason he had crashed and otherwise, they had never even met before then. She stood with her basket on her hip, sighing and staring before she slowly made her way forward, pushing a stray curl from her face as she chewed the inside of her mouth worriedly. Maybe she should have sent him to the town physician, he might have been better prepared to handle a contrary patient.

Lydia entered the cottage, and she looked to the left where the bed was, and the man was leaning against the headboard, staring at the wall. His eyes acknowledged her barely, before he turned his head away once more, and she would have thought he was pouting or something if she hadn’t known better. She swallowed, before moving into the kitchen and setting her basket on the wooden table in the middle of the room, and she called into the main room hesitantly…

“Do you like soup?” Lydia questioned, “My garden tends to do well this time of year, so I have lots of vegetables.”

Lydia glanced in, and she could see him through the doorway. He didn’t even look in her direction and she bit her lip, before continuing without prompting, “Soup it is. You’ve missed your opportunity to decline, so I expect you to eat it.”

She turned to the stove where she had his tonic brewing, using a ladle to remove a bit, putting it into a small glass. She turned, going back into the main room and she approached where he was sitting on the bed. The liquid was ugly and black, and when it was near his face he looked over – eyes still cold towards her presence. Lydia took a deep breath, and said, “Here’s something for your pain. If you drink it now, it might help you have enough of an appetite for dinner. I know it can be hard to eat when you’re hurting.”

His eyes darted to the liquid, before he replied gruffly, finally speaking, “No thanks.”

Lydia took another calming breath, her shoulders stiffening a bit. Lydia questioned him, “Sir, have I done something to displease you?”

That got his attention – his gaze darting to her. She held it a few moments, before he shook his head in denial, telling her in a blunt tone, “I don’t want the tonic.”

“Fine,” Lydia huffed, setting it on the table beside him. She said nothing more, going back into the kitchen as she pulled the vegetables from the basket and began to wash and peel them. Every once and a while she would glance into the main room, and yet he still did not move from where he was sitting. She wondered what he was thinking about – eyes far away as if grieving something, but she didn’t know what. No one else had been on the ship. No one was lost, that she knew of. Maybe it was how he dealt with pain – just left himself behind to go somewhere else deep inside.

Lydia went on, beginning to cook the vegetables after chopping them up and pouring in the broth while she also boiled the sheets from performing the man’s surgery several days ago – getting out the bloody stains in the large pot…Using a giant wooden spoon to do the work with her arms. Sweat formed on her brow, but luckily the chill outside didn’t make the stove and the fireplace unbearable. The distraction was nice after hours with the angry man in the next room, and honestly she was ready for him to be healthy again so he could be sent on his way.

That way she wouldn’t have to tiptoe around him so much.

Of course, her other part – the other part that was a healer wanted to get him well again in the right way, even if he had decided to dislike her for some reason. He would drink the tonic eventually she assumed, maybe he was just the sort of man that refused help when it was offered. She didn’t know. And she didn’t plan to dig into him anymore, he didn’t even seem to want to give her his name and she wasn’t willing to fight for it.

As the soup finished, the sun set in the distance, the kitchen darkening a bit in her artificial lighting. The sheets finished boiling before the soup, so she brought the sheets outside and hung them on the clothesline, ignoring the man’s eyes as she did so. Lydia thought he probably assumed he was being subtle in watching her, as if she was going to attack at any moment. Or do something so terrible. It was almost amusing, but she knew how distrustful warriors could be when being cared for. That was really all war was good for in the end, creating widows, orphans, and broken men.

When the soup finished, Lydia entered the main room and questioned the man, “Would you like me to help you move near the fire to eat?”

She gestured to the fireplace. The man’s eyes found hers in the dim room, orange with the burning wood. There was a long drawn-out moment of silence and she almost thought he wasn’t going to answer her before he shook his head simply. She nodded…Somewhat disappointed. She had hoped he would talk over food, sometimes food was good for that. Getting people to relax with one another. So instead, she brought his bowl to the bed, handing it over and she forced a bedside mannered smile, because truly she was frustrated to see he hadn’t drunk the tonic yet. She knew it looked and smelled disgusting, but she truly felt it would help his mood if he wasn’t in so much pain.

He took the bowl from her…He seemed as if he wanted to eat at least and Lydia smiled a bit triumphantly, bringing her own bowl to the fire and plopping down in front of it to begin to eat. She scooped the vegetables into her spoon and took a big bite, and when she glanced at him, he was eating as well. She questioned him, “How do you feel?”

And finally, she got a response…

“Like my leg is broken.”

Lydia nodded, grimacing, “Well, if you drink the tonic like I told you, you’ll feel a lot better. I guarantee it.”

“It also smells like shit,” The man answered, and Lydia agreed silently. Honestly, it had made the whole cottage smell like tonic.

“It does,” She responded, “But it’s not the smell that matters. It’s a good tonic. Works for almost all the soldiers that come in here.”

There was another drawn out quiet, and Lydia assumed their very short exchange was over and she returned her attention to her food. However, he broke the silence again, speaking, “I’m not a soldier.”

“A warrior,” Lydia corrected, shrugging, “It’s all the same.”

“No,” He said, looking at her and his eyes held that glint again, the same glint from earlier when he had woken and she just couldn’t imagine how she kept managing to light a fuse in him that was just waiting to go off, as he went on, “It’s not.”

Lydia sighed deeply, and set her bowl down on the floor in front of her, questioning him in a quiet tone, “What did I do to displease you so much? Was it saving your leg? Sewing your wounds? You know…I don’t go looking for gratitude, half the time patients don’t thank me and I don’t really care. I enjoy what I do, and I like making people well again – but I have to say I’ve never had anyone blatantly ignore me the entirety of the day…Or try to choke the life out of me after first meeting.”

If she had blinked, she might have missed the expression that came briefly and went away…Guilt. She watched him set aside the bowl, and it was clear to her she had caused whatever shut down that had been happening to reinstate itself in their situation. Lydia chewed the inside of her mouth again – finding she was having to do that very often that day. Lydia sighed again, shaking her head as she looked at the floor, and said, “Whatever I have done to offend you, I apologize. But you’re going to need to be here a while, you won’t be able to walk without assistance for some time to come. Not to mention your ship is in shambles in the woods. It’s your choice if we spend that time as friends or if we spend it in this…painful ring of silence that quite honestly – makes me want to rip my hair out.”

Lydia stood, taking her bowl with her. She quickly finished the contents, before washing it in the sink and she went to the refresher to wash the day off and prepare for bed. When she passed him on the way, she noticed he had begun to eat his food again. Lydia went inside, stripping down and removing her blade from her hip, sticking it under the sink in case the man happened into the refresher. He seemed paranoid enough. She slipped into the shower, setting the water to burn into her skin to force her body to relax, running her fingers through her curls as she cleaned the dirt and muck off from the garden and cooking.

Soon enough she climbed out, changing into a sleepshirt, and socks so her feet wouldn’t freeze against the cold floor. Eprea often spent this time of year temperate during the day with a chill, but at night the temperature dropped dramatically only to rise quickly with the morning sun. Lydia exited the refresher, knowing eventually she would have to offer to assist the man in bathing because she definitely wasn’t going to have him sitting in the bed for weeks without doing so – and he _definitely_ wasn’t going to like that. But she would let him escape it…Especially today when he had been behaving as if he wanted her dead.

Lydia noticed he had finished his soup, but didn’t bother with the bowl and instead rolled out her bed in the middle of the room. She felt his eyes watching her, and she knew realization had hit him when he said…Speaking almost hesitantly…

“You can have your bed.”

Lydia looked at him and smiled a little, “Oh, so we’re friends now?”

He narrowed his eyes and she immediately regretted trying to joke in order to soften him. Clearly not the right approach. She licked her lips and shook her head, filling the silence, “No, it’s fine. I’ve been sleeping here ever since I found you. And you need the bed more to keep your leg elevated.”

Lydia continued what she was doing, and he continued watching her lay out her blankets and pillow for the night. She crawled underneath, body exhausted from another long day – and mind tired from trying to force conversation with a silent naked man. She laid on her back – looking at the ceiling and she looked over, noticing his eyes still watching and questioned, “You know you stare a lot?”

He then looked away, sighing. Lydia sunk deeper into the pillow, continuing to look at him and she went on, “You should drink the tonic, you won’t sleep. I know you’re in pain.”

Though she had an odd feeling it wasn’t all physical pain…Because the look on his face – in his dark eyes that were similar to her own, they looked broken. Like someone had done something, or like he had done something, and she wished she knew him better. That way she could maybe ask him what was happening inside his head. There had been very few times in her life where she had seen someone look like that…Like someone was twisting a blade under their ribs over and over again.

“Good night, Mister Sir,” Lydia said, rolling over to face away from him.

When she did, she heard him mumble under his breath…

“You can call me Mando.”

Lydia’s lip upturned, but she continued to face the fireplace, eyes closed as she nodded her head so he could see she had heard him. In just a few moments time she heard him shift and lift the tonic from the bedside table before she heard him gulp it down. Honestly, she felt herself relax a bit. At least there was that. She had been fearful he would spend the entirety of the night in agony just out of stubbornness. She heard him set the glass down and she questioned, “Mando huh? Why do I get the feeling that’s not your true name?”

When he said nothing, she rolled to face him, staring up from where she laid on the floor. His head turned, and he looked impatient with her, “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“Right,” She replied, shutting her eyes again.

“Goodnight, Mando.”

…

Mando had noticed the weapon she had been wearing under her dress.

He thought about it late into the night as he listened to her even breathing. He wondered how she could sleep when he had tried to choke her just several hours before then. As if he couldn’t manage to get up from the bed, but maybe she still had that blade that she had not attempted to use on him the first time. Maybe she genuinely had not viewed him as a threat, or maybe she just wasn’t a skilled fighter and kept it for other reasons. He had only seen the outline of it throughout the day as she had moved about the cottage doing…Whatever it was she did. Filling vials with weird liquids, hanging up sheets, cooking disgusting smelling things. Besides the soup, that had been rather good and Mando would not admit he had been starving upon waking despite the sickness he felt about his broken Creed.

Gone.

And when he looked at her slumbering face, he wished he could make her understand what she had done, and maybe a small part of him hated this stranger named Lydia. She had mended his wounds, had probably saved his life – but he would rather be dead honestly. Half the day he could not find the words to speak…He didn’t like talking anyway and it was simply worse without the helmet, as if he couldn’t recognize his own voice without the modulator there to filter it into the world. She was the first person that had seen him without his helmet since he was small, and it was against his will. A sliver of him hated her for it.

Even if he knew she didn’t deserve it…She hadn’t known. She couldn’t have known. All she knew was that he was a man that had crashed near her home and he was injured and she did what she knew to do.

Mando was irrational, but a part of him had wished he had shown the kid his face before his departure.

Mando would not say he missed him…He had done what needed to be done, and things needed to be compartmentalized. Grogu had never been his foundling…He had been a duty – a child that needed help finding his own kind and Mando had done what needed to be done. End of story. The bed creaked when Mando laid flat, the fireplace almost lulling him as well as the pain reliever in the tonic he had downed. It didn’t taste as bad as it smelled, honestly it almost tasted sweet like fruits. His dark eyes flitted to the girl, her face and expression relaxed in slumber, as if she had not a worry in the world, her sleepshirt falling off her shoulder in just the slightest.

Mando quickly averted his eyes from her, swallowing hard. He ran his knuckles over his face…forcing his eyes to shut so that sleep would come. Maybe a part of him wished for death in the night. But then another part longed for before – where the normalcy was just finding the next bounty. And now he could do neither but lie in a bed until his leg decided it would work again. He had broken bones before, but if he was being honest, he couldn’t remember ever breaking his leg so badly that someone had to cut him open to fix it.

Mando dozed just a bit….

_“You could join us,” Fett had said, “I have plans, on Tatooine. Fennec and I could use you.”_

_Mando had been relatively silent on the ship…his brain calculating so many things. Replaying Grogu holding his leg before leaving over and over again, and he struggled not to catch himself looking around for the kid to keep an eye on him. Fett and Fennec had been quiet as well…As if they had known this was a stupidly…painful time, as much as he denied it to himself. Pretended it didn’t ache in the pit of his chest and he couldn’t quite understand it himself…It had been a job, a task…It shouldn’t have been anymore and he shouldn’t have let himself get attached the way he had. And yet – and yet – and yet – he felt like someone had blown a hole in the center of his sternum. A denial that would not surface. He found Fett under his helmet and he shook his head in denial…_

_“No…thanks,” Mando answered slowly, “I might find some pucks for bounties, but first I’m going to have to find a new ship. And convince Bo-Katan to take this stupid laser sword.”_

_Fett chuckled deeply, “She won’t.”_

_“Right,” Mando replied, “Then I’ll just keep it until someone else comes looking for it and she can bother them. Otherwise…I’m just going to do what I did before this whole mess.”_

_Fett nodded, “Well…If you change your mind, remember…Tatooine.”_

_Mando nodded._

_“Tatooine.”_


	2. The Friction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy chapter two!!!!!! I've been so excited to work on this story! Enjoy another chapter of Lydia trying to befriend a grumpy Din.

Lydia had seen warriors have nightmares.

Personally, she was not a warrior, but she had her own as well.

At first, she awoke in the night confused, the fire having burned out in her sleep and the only light was offered from the moon outside coming in through the window near the bed. Her head rose from where she laid on the roll out pad, her eyes squinting with sleep as she blinked towards where there were jerky movements…Quiet sounds escaping what she knew to be her guest – Mando as he had finally introduced himself to her. The movements weren’t necessarily thrashing, and the sounds weren’t loud – muffled behind closed lips that came out as grunts. But she knew it to be a nightmare as her body tensed in realization.

They were tricky things…Nightmares. It was as if the waking world was not painful enough and had to follow its victims in their sleep as well. Lydia wondered what plagued him…Wondered what tore into his sleep like nothing but prejudice. She slowly pushed herself up, sitting on her knees, as she came up high enough to see his face. In the moonlight she could see sweat on his brow, his bare chest rising and falling. He still lay bare, the quilt around his waist, body clearly in distress and she worried if he shot up, he would pull another stitch and start them back at square one with those wounds. Lydia pushed herself the rest of the way up to her feet, smoothing down her sleepshirt as she took a step forward.

Lydia was careful not to touch him, she knew what soldiers and warriors could do in their sleep. But the look on his face was so pained, it almost pained her as well not to awaken him and free him of his terror. She called softly into the darkness…

“Mando.”

The fit continued and she tried again.

“Mando, wake up. You’re having a dream.”

She supposed it was a bad one…He made no move to open his eyes, or join her in the waking world and anxiety twisted in her belly. Hesitantly, she took a step forward, and then another step until she was standing beside the bed, her heart hammering in her chest. She pressed her shoulders back, spine tall as her father had showed her as a little girl, how to behave as not to be scared or belittled. But those lessons seemed so far away – he had grabbed her already when he had first woken up, and the second time would be shame on her she was sure. But the merciful healer inside of her watched him writhe in his own mind and she just wanted him to be free of whatever demon had crawled inside his dreams.

_“The only way to live peacefully with men is to be useful in more than just body. Otherwise, you’re just another warm fuck to them.”_

If she wasn’t a healer, she would be useless…And it had been engrained in her, she could not be. Healer or death – either or, find something to be good at, or be something to devour. Her great aunt had always held a bluntness about her, sentiments her father had never shared. And she didn’t necessarily either, but when one is whispered words for the later portion of their adolescence, what are they to do with such grooming? Shove it down as if it never existed? Easier said than done, and Lydia had hidden her blade from her great aunt…Because her father had taught her its usefulness, her great aunt had smothered his words.

But she was a healer, and she had promised herself to do good by her patients.

Her shaky hand reached out and touched Mando’s arm – feather light and gentle on his arm that was tensed…Hard, as if he strained every day, but with how heavy that armor was he had been carrying she wasn’t surprised. Lydia pressed a knee into the mattress, looming over him a bit as she spoke unevenly again, trying to whisper…Trying not to startle him from the dream, “Please, wake up. You’re alright.”

Lydia gave his shoulder a slight shake.

Before she could even open her mouth to speak again, his eyes snapped open and she was taken by her throat once more – what was it with this guy and choking the life out of people? – and she was flipped over onto the opposite side of the bed near the wall. His body followed the movement, suddenly on top of her, applying hard pressure into her neck as she was shoved down into the blankets and pillows, her eyes going wide in shock as he squeezed much harder than he had done when he had grabbed her earlier. Lydia couldn’t even get the scream past her lips to tell him it was her, his eyes empty – he wasn’t there, and Lydia had seen the look many times. Men reliving the darkest moments of their existences right in front of her, and she was the enemy. Truthfully, he was not the first patient to harm her, and would not be the last – but the grief he held as well was something new.

Lydia reached out, and grabbed his nose, pinching it closed.

It was an odd response, but it usually worked to pull people from their panicked stupors. It appeared to do so for him, because his hand lightened and she was able to gasp in a breath, his heavy weight on top of her as she spoke hurriedly, coughing as well, “Careful – careful – your splint a-and stitches!”

She wanted to be sure he was aware of that as soon as he joined her. He was crushing her, one knee bent on one side of her and the other straight out because of the splint on his leg. His chest continued to heave, soaked with sweat and his hair was too as he released her neck fully, the shock in his eyes turning into confusion before it quickly transferred to realization. Her hands came out, taking him by both arms as she fought to catch her breath…Throat burning despite him only having grabbed it a few moments and she asked hurriedly, “Did you – did you feel anything pull?”

Mando didn’t reply to that question, but instead he croaked hoarsely…

“I…” He was breathing so hard, she could hear it fighting out of his body, and she was vaguely aware his quilt had removed itself and he was completely bare, which wasn’t uncomfortable for her – she had seen many bare men…But she knew he probably would not appreciate it when he realized since he had seemed so uncomfortable about his armor being gone earlier. Finally he went on, “I apologize – I…”

Truthfully, with the way he had been behaving that day, Lydia didn’t expect him to tell her sorry. He cleared his throat as if there was a lump he couldn’t speak past and she felt the ghost of his fingertips slide over her neck as he went on, “Fuck – I…I could have killed you, don’t…don’t touch me, I could…”

It seemed his thoughts were broken and Lydia shook her head, shifting in response to his heavy weight that still had yet to move off of her, “I’m fine – listen, I’ve been sucker punched by people waking up from nightmares. Just…Just be careful rolling over, I don’t want to have to redo any sutures again.”

His dark eyes stared at her a long time. As if he was finally waking up. Processing her words and what had happened and the position he was in…Mostly just naked – and she could see the realization hit him, as he carefully began to roll of her, and she held his arms as he did so, slowly helping him. She saw his face scrunch a bit in pain, the adrenaline gone that had helped him flip her over. She looked down at him, before she quickly returned the quilt over him…Assuming much of his discomfort had come from that. She heard him curse under his breath, and she asked, “Do you need more tonic?”

He was quiet. She knew moving like that had to hurt, and suddenly his head nodded mutely, as if he was too embarrassed to admit it. Lydia climbed over him carefully from her place near the wall side of the bed and she padded her way into the kitchen, using what was left of the tonic she had made him to fill a glass before returning to him. He had adjusted himself on the bed and when she handed the drink over, he took it and downed it. He was still breathing heavily as she took the glass back and he spoke roughly…The concern from just moments ago shifting…

“You shouldn’t do that,” And it sounded like he was actually angry at _her_ , “Someone could kill you if you do that. I could have.”

Lydia chuckled, shaking her head sarcastically, “Trust me, if I had been fighting back it wouldn’t have been as easy.”

She set the glass on the table, adjusting his quilt again before grabbing another blanket. Just as she was about to drape it over him, he said, “I don’t imagine healers do much fighting.”

Lydia paused, “Well, you haven’t been to Eprea before, obviously.”

Without hesitation she threw the blanket out, and it covered his body. She went to adjust it, but he was quick to look at her with a warning expression…As if telling her not to treat him like a child. Lydia tensed, before she bit the inside of her mouth and she relented, moving back to her roll out bed, gently massaging on her throat where she had once again been grabbed. She looked over her shoulder, slowly sinking down as she asked, “Do you warriors only choke people or something?”

He said nothing. Maybe it was just an instinct to go for the throat. Everyone seemed to have one. Lydia laid down, before she rolled over to face him. He was sitting against the headboard, his eyes open and staring at the wall as if being haunted by whatever he had dreamed of. She felt a pressure in her chest. Sometimes after a particularly bad dream about her father…She could only sit and stare. Think and think and think. Like it was all she had left to keep her a human being inside her body, to have herself exist and be grounded to something that meant anything to anyone else. She felt sorry for him…She felt sorry for not waking him sooner – for being afraid.

Lydia told him, “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I’m sorry…It seemed very frightening, and whatever it is, I’m sorry it happened.”

His eyes flitted to her. Dark. His reply was gruff, and his words made Lydia still completely, even in her breathing.

“It was about you.”

…

Mando hadn’t expected to fall back to sleep.

Truthfully, he had spent hours staring at that damned wall, far after the girl’s breathing had evened out back into slumber and he knew she was asleep. His eyes kept glancing at her, where she laid – her chest rising and falling easily as if what had happened had been forgotten, as if he hadn’t once more tried to choke the life out of her. Mando didn’t know himself so well, at least when he was exposed without his armor the way he was, because he never handled someone repeatedly in such a way when he didn’t truly find them to be a threat. He didn’t feel she was – but she was attached to this terrible, broken Creed now in the back of his mind and when he had seen her face…Everything he had ever been taught had come back.

Mando hadn’t been lying when he had told her he had dreamed of her.

The nightmare, her pulling off his helmet and him knowing, knowing, knowing he would _never_ be able to put it back on again. Everything he knew, everything he remembered, it was all down the drain in a matter of moments, and for what? To save his life? At that point, when he had been on top of her…Hand pressed to her throat and his bare body against her – he wondered if he even deserved to be alive, or whether he wanted to be. But when he looked at her where she slept, there was a sick part of him he knew – it had to be sick and twisted, that enjoyed watching her chest rise and fall the way it did.

But then he remembered what she had done – unintentionally, but she had still done it…And he hated her. Strangely. It was conflicting, he could not harm her. She had not done anything to hurt him. Mando had always imagined if someone had taken off his helmet it would have been in a fight…It would have been someone he could kill for daring to do such a thing. He had never…had never anticipated this. He hadn’t even let Cara remove his helmet, he had been prepared to die, and he would have done it again had he been given the choice. But now he was alive, being mended and yet when he was better…What was he going to be? He could never put the armor back on again.

Those thoughts were what he went to sleep to, unfortunately.

When he woke, sunlight was streaming in and those same birds from the day before were loudly chirping, the windows open again to allow in a breeze and Mando felt like he was reliving the day before except now it was early morning welcoming him rather than afternoon. His mind wavered, the cottage smelled strange once more, but it also mixed in with the smell of food and he could hear clattering in the kitchen as he rolled over, eyes squinted against the light and his body aching…Probably from straining the night before to hold the girl down to the bed. He pressed his palm into his face, before he saw the plate of food beside the bed…Breakfast, steaming as if freshly made and his brown eyes flitted to the kitchen where the sounds were coming from. He could see the girl there, her apron tied around her back once more, and she was in front of the wooden table in the center, filling small vials with some kind of liquid that he was sure was the source of the smell.

Mando managed to convince himself to push upward, pressing his back to the headboard as he assessed himself. None of the sutures had pulled, the splint was still in place…His body covered by the blanket. He ignored the way his stomach felt, thinking of pressing against her the way he had, her thigh against his own as her nightshirt had ridden up and –

He hated her. Mando reminded himself. She had removed his helmet, and he had lost his Creed along with Grogu.

She must have noticed he had sat up, because when he glanced back into the kitchen she looked at him, her eyes widening a bit as she grabbed something from the table and came into the main room of the cottage where he laid. He almost wanted to roll his eyes when he saw the glass in her hand. It wasn’t the tonic she had given him, but instead some orange liquid she held out for him to take. His gaze flitted to her throat, where there was no evidence of his hands wrapping around her petite neck the night before…Something he was grateful for as his shoulders stiffened in response to her trying to hand him something.

“Good morning,” She greeted, as if he hadn’t tried to kill her…Sounding ever polite, “Here, I need you to drink this. It will help your body heal a bit quicker. You’ll need to eat your breakfast after though, or you’ll probably feel a bit nauseous. It’s not meant to be taken on an empty stomach.”

Mando sighed, looking at her with a blank expression. He was tired of drinking weird things, but the tonic had made the pain bearable enough to sleep, and if this really would make him heal faster…Well the faster he could get the hell out of there – of course he didn’t know where he’d go…What he’d do. He belonged to nothing now, he had nothing. He took the glass, downing it and throwing it back in one gulp and it tasted much worse than the tonic as he frowned in response, feeling as if he had just taken a shot of alcohol. It burned down his throat, and she took the glass back and didn’t comment on the taste, ordering, “Eat.”

Mando stopped her, questioning in a voice rough with sleep, “What smells?”

“Oh,” She whirled back around, smiling as if embarrassed as she pushed a curl from her face, “I brew medicines for the people in town. Well, more so the physician there, he doesn’t like making medicines much, so he gives me a bit of profit for my work. I deliver them every few weeks.”

Her head tilted and she went on, “Don’t worry, it’s really this time of year that these types of medicines smell so terrible. The next batch won’t be so bad. We’re getting out of allergy season.”

Mando didn’t really care. But he watched her mouth as she explained it, the way she seemed excited that he had asked at all and she could talk about it. Mando hesitated and she continued standing there, as if she could tell he had more to say and he cleared his throat almost awkwardly…before he started, “Last night…”

His tone was low…Almost cold, like he didn’t know how to approach it from the right area. She seemed to realize what he was saying and she quickly shook her head, “It’s alright. Like I said, I could have fought back.”

“Could have?” Mando questioned, sounding disbelieving, “That why you carry that blade under your dress?”

He watched her eyes widen a bit, as if surprised he had noticed it. She bit down on her lip and averted her gaze before shaking her head, “It’s for different purposes. Protection yes, but not from my patients. I was most certain you would not hurt me. You were far too frightened to be cruel.”

“Frightened,” Mando said, tone as ice, “No…I was pissed off.”

He saw her tense. The girl – Lydia…He couldn’t tie the name to the face of the person that had burrowed such conflict within him. With kind and warm brown eyes and hands that belonged to a healer, but he knew what she had done. He knew the Creed was destroyed and he was having more trouble reminding himself to hate her with each moment she looked at him as if she had been hurt by his words, but a part of him didn’t care. The part that had lost everything. The part that wanted the kid back, his armor back, a time before it all back when it was simplistic. Her lips pursed…

“At me,” Lydia said, “Right…Right, because I did something to displease you that you still refuse to explain to me. To the point it has followed you into your nightmares. You are an odd individual indeed. Captured in your own skin and glares.”

She scoffed…

“For your information, Mister Mando…I wasn’t frightened either. Naked men with broken legs don’t scare me much.”

Mando then watched her walk back into the kitchen. He ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to pick up the food and throw it, but he grabbed some of the food like he was told and shoved it in his mouth as he let the anger and bitterness consume. He would eat, but only because he didn’t want to stoop himself to something as pitiful as vomiting everywhere. Her mind wandered to the blade, protection but he didn’t know what from. Apparently not from him but even he questioned if he could overtake anyone at the moment with his leg elevated as a toddler.

Some time went on like that, and he ate the food – glancing into the kitchen every now and then to see her continuing to fill vials. At least her movement created sound and they weren’t trapped in silence as he stared ahead of himself once more – like earlier. It was only after some time he realized…He didn’t know how the hell he was going to use the refresher. He swallowed, pushing himself upward, and moving his leg to the edge of the bed, and of course she noticed him, calling from the kitchen, “What’re you doing?”

Mando gritted his teeth, and gripped the mattress when he heard her footsteps returning and he kind of wished she would just go back to her garden as he lifted his eyes to glare darkly. It was as if she could read his mind, her mouth opening and her head nodding as she said, “Right, right…Refresher, I’m sorry I should have asked. C’mon, I can help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Mando grunted as he pushed himself up with one arm and held the quilt around his waist with the other. She shot forward anyway as if on instinct and took his arm tightly with one hand and his hand with the other…Actually supporting a good bit of his weight that he realized he couldn’t hold on his own. She appeared to be used to doing things such as this because it appeared she knew exactly where to hold him, even though he was quite larger than her. He looked down, wanting to roll his eyes in annoyance with himself as he was forced to lean on her…Pain thumping up his leg. Lydia moved him towards the small hall where the refresher was, helping him hobble and he continued to hold his quilt with one hand and grabbed the wall with his other once it was in reach.

Once they got to the refresher door, he shrugged her off, sighing, “I’ve got it.”

“Okay,” She sounded concerned as he went in, using the counter with the sink for support, “Okay just…don’t fall over, if you need help, I’m going to stand right here.”

She shut the door. Mando let out a breath, shutting his eyes tightly. This was probably the most pathetic he had ever felt in his life. Unable to walk on his own, naked, without his fucking armor in front of someone. He had been left to lick his wounds many times in the past, but he had never been forced to let someone watch, even if they were a healer. Mando moved to the toilet, doing what he needed to do before he cleaned his hands and went back to the door. True to her word, she was still standing there and immediately took hold of him again with her hands that wore the tiny little scars on them. Neither said anything as she helped him back to the bed, and he felt relieved when he was sitting again – though a part of him hated to be back in that same spot.

Mando pushed her hands away when she tried to help him lean against the headboard, and she frowned. He watched her swallow thickly, and he wished he could find the will to be kind to her…A part of him wanted to be when he saw her large eyes blink at him a bit hurt. She cleared her throat when he was adjusted, taking his empty breakfast plate and she appeared to force a smile, “That was good…It’ll be good for you to get up and moving when you can. Recovery takes a good bit of time, but the more you move the better.”

Mando opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the door beside them slammed open. Lydia jumped, taking her chest with her free hand – and Mando sat forward, taking her forearm as if to yank her back, though he didn’t know what he was going to do…If he was going to fight back. However, before he could reach for the plant put next to the bed to hurl at the intruder – his brain processed what it was…

Children. Two children. A boy and a girl.

“Maker,” Lydia breathed, still holding her chest as she set the plate down in the same spot and pulled her arm from Mando’s hold. His brows were furrowed, he felt the urge to cover his face, but he could not. Why would he need to? The Creed was broken, he could never put it back on. The girl was wide eyed, staring at Lydia and the boy was holding his hand, face splotchy with tears. The girl shrieked in a high-pitched voice that caused Mando to nearly cringe.

“Miss Lyddie!”

Lydia cringed outwardly, and shushed the girl, “Hush, hush Mila, I’m right here.”

“Miss Lyddie,” She said quieter, “Linus broke his finger, it’s all crooked!”

Mando ground his teeth, Maker she was loud…Not like the kid. Sometimes the kid could get loud, but only when he was crying. Mando felt a pit inside of him, thinking about the child…Thinking about him in comparison to other children. Lydia glanced at him…Maybe noticing whatever expression he wore, and he quickly looked away from her, turning. Lydia moved towards the boy with the red and crying face, taking his cheek gently before she kneeled in front of him, whispering, “Let me see, Linus.”

Mando watched as Linus sniffed and offered his hand. Mando did in fact see where his middle finger looked to be jammed and crooked. He heard Lydia tsk and hum, “Oh, yeah I’ll need to set that. Here, sit down and I’ll get some ice.”

The boy was maneuvered to sit in a nearby chair by the fire, the girl following close. Lydia went into the kitchen and Mando watched as the little girl looked at him, as if noticing him for the first time and he did not like the children being in there when he was literally fucking naked with just his quilt, he didn’t even want Lydia in there and she had been the one to strip him. The girl tilted her head and she questioned, “Are you the one who fell from the sky?”

Mando stared, silent, and the boy…Even through his tears elbowed her, “Mila, don’t ask someone that.”

“Well Mama said someone fell from the sky!” She exclaimed, “She said Miss Lyddie was tending them!”

Lydia returned from the kitchen with an ice pack in her hand, and something else in the other…Like a tiny version of the splint Mando had on his leg. Lydia questioned the little girl, “What did your Mama say?”

“She said you’re taking care of the person who fell from the sky,” The girl explained as Lydia kneeled in front of the boy where he sat, setting aside the supplies. The girl went on, “I was asking him if he was the person.”

Lydia glanced back at Mando and he stared back, unsure how to react without his helmet to hide his face in a room with three sets of eyes. It was one thing for it to just be Lydia, he even hated having to look her in the face…But so many – it was almost overstimulating and enraging to know he was further from the Creed. Lydia looked back at the girl and explained, “Yes, he is. But he’s my patient right now, Mila. So, you shouldn’t ask such things.”

The girl pouted, as Lydia took the boy’s hand. Lydia spoke slowly to him, “Alright Linus, I’m going to set your finger…It’s going to hurt a bit but we’ll put the ice on it right after, okay?”

The boy sniffed, “Okay.”

“Okay,” She hummed, and started, “One…”

Mando expected there to be a two and a three, but there wasn’t. Instead she yanked, and the boy let out a cut off cry…But as soon as he had, it was done and Mando saw his face turn a bit pink. Lydia quickly covered his finger with the ice and she smiled at him kindly, before she questioned, “See? That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”

The boy nodded shakily. Lydia gave him the splint as well, and ordered, “Tell your mama to put that on you once the ice helps some of the swelling go down, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Lyddie,” The boy mumbled, standing from the chair.

The little girl acted as if she wanted to speak more, but Lydia was quick to usher the two of them out the door, and Mando watched her amused look on her face when she shut it, and looked at Mando. She shook her head and she said, “Mila is very talkative. If I don’t send her out, she’ll keep going and going and going…”

Lydia paused, looking at him. Mando didn’t much feel like talking, not after all the squealing. It had been a relatively quick exchange, but it had left him exhausted in his own head…About his own face. She was watching him – and he averted his eyes, leaning back against the headboard and returning his attention to that spot on the wall he had been watching for some time now. He heard her sigh…

“Listen…”

Mando could already sense he wasn’t going to like where this was going.

“I need to finish bottling these medicines,” Lydia explained and Mando looked at her once more, his expression blank and cold as she went on, “When I get finished, I’m going to help you to bathe, alright?”

Mando scoffed, “Yeah, no.”

“Don’t be an infant,” She crossed her arms over her chest, “You’ve been unconscious for days, you need to be cleaned. And you’re not strong enough to do it yourself. I just had to carry half your weight to the bathroom. It’ll be a simple bed bath, that’s it, at least until you’re ready to shower. Okay?”

Mando was silent, her expression was pleading with him. When he said nothing her eyes shut and then opened again, “Please, let me help you. At least for now. Otherwise, you’re going to rot away in that bed, is that what you want?”

“Honestly?” Mando questioned, “Right now I don’t give a shit.”

Her brows furrowed deeply…then, “What? Because of what I did that you’re not explaining to me?”

Mando glared mutely. He could see her shoulders trembling, her jaw moving a bit as she ground her teeth like he often did. Mando watched her put a hand on her chest, as she stepped forward, “Listen…I apologize for whatever I have done, but let me help you. I only want to help.”

Mando could hear she was sincere, which was making this decided hatred for her more difficult. She was an enemy, but she did not know she was…How Grogu had been. Mando denied to himself he missed him, denied the black hole within him left by the child and his Creed. His eyes darted, and he then muttered a blank response, “Fine.”

He heard a breath of relief, her head nodding vehemently before she went back into the kitchen to continue what she was doing before he had gotten up to go to the refresher. Truthfully, he was glad to be left alone for a moment, even if he could see her work. Something calmed him about watching her work honestly…It gave him a sense of knowledge that things were still happening, even if he was drowning. He could let the girl help, let her do what she wanted, and eventually he would…Find his way off that rock. Wherever the hell he was, Eprea she had called it. The planet with the cool breeze and the loud birds and the girl who apparently kept a knife under her dress for protection but spent her time brewing medicines and waking nightmarish warriors from their sleep.

Maybe he wasn’t the odd one at all, it was her.

He knew the dreaded time was nearing when he saw her begin corking the tiny vials of medicine and put them in a box together. He then watched her fill a pot with water and put a rag inside, bringing it into the main room where he was, setting the soapy liquid next to the bed as she had struggled to carry the pot. She moved objects off the table to put the pot on it and she then sat on the corner of the bed, looking at him and giving a small smile that she usually offered before he said something cruel, words he knew he uttered, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from letting his anger and pain surface in the inopportune moments, moments in which she was just trying to do her job.

“If you want, I’ll close my eyes,” Her head tilted, and she laughed a little, but Mando said nothing. Her hands went to his shoulders, pulling him forward slightly, and he felt his body stiffen when she uncovered the blankets from his waist down. She moved to the splint, slowly removing it and Mando was trapped in silence, exposed and…Completely uncomfortable. He had never been completely naked in front of anyone, and he hadn’t wanted to start now as she set the splint aside and said, “Don’t move it too much, I’m going to put it straight back on when I finish.”

Again, he said nothing, just looked away as she reached into the soapy water and pulled out the rag. She took his arm and he almost cringed as she started to run the dampness over him, and under his arm – her hands working as if she had done this many times before. She must have sensed his discomfort as she worked because she shook her head, “Don’t worry, I’ve done this plenty of times. I’ve seen many naked individuals, and I’ve bathed worse.”

She swiped the rag under his neck, and he grunted, “Right.”

She worked her way down his body, and his back, careful with his sutures not to rub over them too roughly. Mando cleared his throat, and said, “You must have done this at least once…while I was unconscious.”

“When I first brought you here, yes,” She nodded, smoothing over his abdomen…Going lower and he averted his eyes again. She wetted the rag once more, “You were bloody and covered in dirt. I staunched the worst of the wounds and cleaned you up before I did the rest. Then I cleaned you up again after I did surgery on your leg…”

She kind of laughed to herself, and he swallowed thickly when she got to his groin. Lydia seemed unfazed, as she went on mindlessly, “You were a much more compliant patient when you were asleep.”

His eyes went to the ceiling, focusing hard on anything other than where she was cleaning at the moment. It soon passed though and she got to his legs, then feet…Gentle around his injured leg where it was still ugly and swollen. Mando was quick to put the blanket back over his waist once she had moved on from his middle. Women had touched him before, but had never seen him so exposed…And he could only stare at her face as she worked, then her chest where the clouds of her breasts came up with each breath in her dress and he wished his mind would fucking stop – this was the enemy. The one that had broken his Creed. And he hated her, he had to remind himself.

Mando’s mouth was dry when she made him lean over the side of the bed, where she pulled the table and pot over so she could shampoo his greasy hair. Mando shut his eyes where he stared at the shallow water, before she poured it over slowly to rinse it. It felt nice, her fingers in his hair, but there was a familiar pressure between his legs that caused him to pull the blanket tighter around himself. When she finished, she used a towel to rub his head dry and he sat back up, looking at her. His splint was returned and his leg reelevated on the pillow before he leaned back against the headboard once more.

Lydia smiled at him, “See? Wasn’t so bad, yeah?”

She picked up the pot, returning to the kitchen. Mando’s face was still burning, and he lifted the blanket in the slightest to see himself beneath and he groaned quietly as he heard the sink turn on…His eyes shutting tightly as he leaned back. Maker, he hated himself. Maybe more than her in that moment – anger coursing up his spine, along with the same thoughts of her soft fingers on his body, running over his chest and lower –

The way her nightshirt had fallen off her shoulder –

Mando purposefully pressed into one of his sutured wounds, not hard enough to undo the stitches, but hard enough to cause the thoughts to stop in favor of blind pain and he grunted, gritting his teeth as not to alarm her. He had just met her, had been stripped bare by her. But as much as he convinced himself he hated her, he remembered her below his naked body in the middle of the night, the way her skin felt, her exposed thighs on him, legs spread and Maker…

He was the shittiest person ever for such thoughts.

…

Lydia made dinner in front of the fireplace that night.

The rest of the day had been quiet again, like the day before…The evening spent even more so. Lydia couldn’t help but think of how she was ever going to survive the next several weeks with a man that would barely allow her to touch him, wouldn’t let her speak to him…Just overall hated her guts with no explanation as to why. So she sat turned from the bed, stirring the pot over the fireplace silently as their dinner boiled. More vegetables from the garden with some meat traded to her by one of the nearby hunters in exchange for medicine for his wife. Lydia assumed she would have given it to him for free anyway…She knew they had little money, but he had insisted she take it and so she had.

She glanced back at where Mando was sitting. She had offered him something to do…A tiny little communicator she had so she could contact the physician in town whenever he needed supplies from her had broken, and she had asked if he could fix it. Honestly, she didn’t truly need it, but she wanted him to have something to do while he sat and he had been busy working on it all afternoon, taking it apart and putting it back together over and over again. Lydia licked her lips and she broke their silence finally after hours and hours of tolerating each other…

“Mando?”

His head lifted. His face was scruffier than the day she first found him, but she hadn’t dared trim his hair in his sleep. His soft eyes looked at her, but they always had that disdain behind them, whether for her, the situation, or both she could not tell. She assumed both. Lydia’s brows furrowed and she questioned, a bit humorously, “Do you not like children?”

“What?” He sounded taken aback by the question and Lydia chuckled.

“It’s just…” She gestured to the door with the hand that wasn’t holding the stirring spoon, “When Mila and Linus came earlier, you seemed kind of…annoyed.”

Mando was quiet a moment…Before he replied, “I’m indifferent to children. Loud ones are just…”

He trailed off, and said no more, but she understood. Mila was a loud child indeed. Just as Lydia was going to turn back to her food, Mando questioned, “Why are you a healer for the town?”

“Why?” Lydia smiled, raising an eyebrow, “Well…Because it’s something I know to do…It’s a useful thing to know. My great aunt taught me everything I know before she passed a few years ago. This was her house actually…She taught me to be useful.”

Mando echoed, “Useful…Were you not before then?”

“I…” She breathed, her heart sinking a little bit and she felt a little confused by the question. She cleared her throat, and, “I don’t know…She took me in when I was about twelve, after my father was murdered by bandits. All he had really taught me was how to use my blade…And my great aunt didn’t think that was useful and that I wouldn’t last very long if I didn’t learn something.”

Mando stared…Silent, before he said, “Bandits?”

“Yes,” Lydia sighed. The entire conversation made her skin squirm, her mind numbing over with the memories as she glanced at the fire to control her shakiness. It wasn’t sad emotions, just the terrified kind that dredged up nightmares as she explained, “They make us pay ‘taxes’…me and the townspeople I mean. My father said we had to fight back…And he taught me to do so, and he organized a group to fight, but…They lost.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she heard a bit of anger in her voice, “Bandits make you pay taxes?”

“Yes,” Lydia repeated, with a shrug, “It has been like this for decades now. One family leads them…Well, it’s one man now. His father killed my father…”

Lydia pushed a curl from her face, clearing her throat awkwardly. Her hands were sweaty just thinking about it. She noticed the food was probably finished, and began to make Mando a bowl as she went on, “My great aunt thought the sword fighting was a waste of time. That the bandits would surely find other…uses for me if I didn’t learn to be a healer…A trade of some sort.”

She brought the bowl over, and when she looked into Mando’s face, his eyes had gone hard…

Mando echoed, knowingly…Bitingly, “Uses.”

Lydia looked away as he took the food and she went back to the fire, tugging her apron as she cleared her throat, changing the subject a bit as she asked, “But about the children…So you don’t mind them?”

She noticed him pause in grabbing his spoon from his bowl. Lydia made her own, silence enveloping them and she figured maybe he didn’t want to talk about it, because he wasn’t speaking at all for a long time…And she went ahead and made her food…Assuming the conversation was forgotten. She scooped some of her food into her mouth – mind wandering until suddenly he spoke, causing her to jump and nearly choke on her bite…

“No,” Mando replied, “I had a foundling once.”

She swallowed her food and questioned, “A foundling? What’s that?”

He looked over, “A child that I cared for…I found his own kind though, and he’s back with them.”

Despite the hardness in his tone, she saw the flash across his eyes. Something like agony…Like the parents whose children had died right in front of her in the past when she has tried to save them after they have drowned, fallen, accidents, murders…As if the child was dead, but she knew it not to be the case here. This was just…a loss of a loss…Never seeing the child again, like a custody dispute willingly solved by giving the child away to a new family. Lydia’s chest clenched, and despite him being cruel, cold, and contrary – she felt sadness for him. An ache, and she shook her head.

She whispered…

“I’m sorry…That must have been painful for you.”

She regretted the words immediately. Because she saw his outward shell shut down. A familiar look of a man crawling back into himself desperately. She bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to take it back, wanting to apologize. But there was a heavy weight set in her chest and she could not speak, but only watch the agony unfold. He finished his food, yes, but no more words were exchanged that evening between them…No one said anything and she kept replaying it over and over again, wishing she hadn’t brought the pain up…Hadn’t brought any of it up. Maybe she had deterred him from ever opening up.

Delaying his recovery.

Lydia went about her evening business as usual, tiptoeing around him much like she had done the night before. She wanted to befriend him, she wanted to speak to him, she wanted him to not be so angry with her. She had seen the softness when he had spoken of the foundling, a person existed somewhere under all that anger. Her mind wavered, as she rolled out her bed, throwing the pillows and blankets on top. Mando had his back turned and she assumed he had already fallen asleep as she stepped over her bedding, and approached him where his back glowed a bit orange with the firelight. Lydia reached out, eyeing one of her sutures on his back and she gently ran her fingers over it –

Clearly he wasn’t asleep, because he tensed, and turned, taking her wrist tightly in his hand. She kneeled on the edge of the bed with her knee, and her eyes widened at the movement, a little gasp escaping her chest as he stared at her. He was quick to order, the grip on her wrist tight and bruising, “Quit doing that.”

“I was only checking my handiwork,” She replied, cringing a bit at his grip as she slowly lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed. Without her above him, his hold alleviated. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and she didn’t miss the way his brown eyes flashed to her chest and her face burned red with embarrassment at being looked upon, swallowing hard. He released her wrist, and Lydia lowered it, holding onto the sheets as her head tilted towards him and she stared at him with sincerity.

Lydia blinked a few times, before she told him, “Mando I…What did I do?”

His response was too quick, too blunt for her to believe as he said, “Nothing.”

“Then why do you refuse to befriend me?” Lydia questioned.

He stared. There was a flash of what she thought to be confusion on his face. That same unapproachable look morphed over his brows. As if he was upset she had asked it, and did not understand why she even would. Her heart stuttered, and he leaned a bit forward, before he replied to her roughly, “Why does it matter?”

“Because,” Lydia whispered, eyes searching his where he had moved in closer, “I’m trying to help you, I – I’ve watched you lay here for days and that kind of makes someone feel invested in one’s recovery. And you’re going to be here at least until you can walk again…I just would wish for it not to be spent like this.”

Lydia flinched a bit inwardly when she suddenly felt a few calloused fingers press against her knee, as if hesitantly touching her. His gaze flitted down, and she followed his stare where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her knee bare from under her sleepshirt. Lydia swallowed thickly, stomach twisting, something deep in her belly. He didn’t touch her past the tips of his fingers on her skin before he pulled away, and he did not speak to her again. His chest seemed to be heaving a bit more just from the contact, and he rolled over…Facing away from her once more.

Lydia lowered herself to the floor, mind confused…trying to understand what had just happened. What the look in his eyes had been. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure…He had behaved as if he hated her, but for a moment – just a moment that hatred had dissipated into something else she could not comprehend. He had only just woken the day before…That brief second had come from nowhere, and had disappeared just as quickly – the tenderness taken with it…As if it had never happened. Replaced again by a bitterness held against her throat as if she had committed a sin by pulling him from the rubble of his destroyed ship.

She pulled her blanket over her head and hid beneath it.

Lydia wondered if the moment had actually been exchanged at all, or if it was just something she had made up in her mind.


	3. The Debris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thank you all for such kind responses to the story so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for the support! Enjoy some more grump Din not knowing how to handle his emotions, but hey, I think he's softening up a bit.  
> Warning: This chapter has hints towards assault, though it does not explicitly say it I just wanted to put the warning in case!

The days that passed were…Long.

It was a torturous cycle in that bed. Staring at the same point on the wall – the girl – Lydia making all of these attempts to keep him entertained. She had resorted to forcing him to play cards with her in the evenings, maybe because she had thought it would help him somehow, but it didn’t. In fact, it annoyed him probably even more than he had been originally. He saw her as a sort of menace, constantly moving and doing her tasks and going and going. Maybe he was just envious because he could not move from his spot. However, being forced to stay still had worked on his wounds, his leg looked far better. The swelling was practically nonexistent, but there was still pain there when he tried to put any weight on it. Her silly little concoctions worked, and he was getting better.

His mission to continue to view her as an enemy…with hatred, it had faltered to his dismay. Only sometimes. Other times he was good at keeping the wall up, but some nights when she forced him to play her stupid games, he caught himself smirking at her, particularly when she lost. She was a sore loser when it came to her games. Mostly because he was pretty sure she had made up most of them, with her own rules to suit her and yet he still won. But each time he caught himself smirking, or even smiling, he shoved it down…Reminded himself what she had done. Reminded himself he had nothing left in the universe. It was stubbornness but sometimes there was comfort in the familiarity of misery.

Mando kept the thoughts at bay…Most of the time. But it was difficult when she would touch him…And he felt angry with himself – she was just doing her job. Currently, it was difficult where she was leaning in close, her fingertips pressed to the skin of his abdomen as she removed stitches from his body. It wasn’t painful, her hands were gentle as she went from wound to wound that had closed with her handiwork. It was a slow process and he kept his eyes averted as not to think so much. She was humming to herself as she worked, hands moving as if she had done this a million times before. Luckily Mando had finally been gifted with clothes, well, a black pair of pants and a shirt he would put on after she finished what she was doing. The left pants’ leg was pulled up so the splint could be used easily against exposed skin.

“And there!” Lydia sat up straight, grinning, “Got them all! You are free of stitches now, Mister Mando. Now just to get that bone healed and you’ll be brand new.”

Mando hummed, “Great.”

She stood from the bed, rolling her eyes, “Aw, c’mon have some more enthusiasm than that. You’re getting better, and that’s all that matters yeah? Before you know it, you’ll be back in your shiny suit and flying off into the sunset.”

Little did she know that because of her, he could never put that suit on again. She disappeared a few moments into the hall, and when she returned she had a set of crutches. Mando had never seen them before, and he wondered where she had them stashed. Probably somewhere he wouldn’t be tempted to use them to get up sooner than she had wanted. She continued to smile at him, leaving the crutches against the bed as she held out her hands for him to take as she said, “I think you’ve graduated to the mobile level, let’s get you up and test it out.”

Mando stared at her offered hands a few moments. He could see her excitement the past few days, as if seeing him getting better had brought her a great sense of joy. It almost made him feel bad for trying to brainwash himself into hatred for her. Her and her pretty face, that he often stared at in the night when the nightmares would wake him…Nightmares of Grogu gone, his Creed gone – and at least he had her to look at to lull himself back into sleep. She always looked so content when her eyes were closed in slumber, as if the world was at rest, the universe was a place of peace. And Mando had been the one to bring her a torturous several days in her own home.

Mando took the hands eventually, allowing her to assist him in standing. It felt easier without the pull of sutures against his skin, worried he would tear one and cause her to become frustrated, though he didn’t know when he started to care about such things. The crutches were handed over, and Mando tested his weight with them, looking at her in her round eyes. Her hands folded and she looked pleased, saying, “Well?”

“It’s…fine,” Mando inhaled deeply, unable to match her excitement on a good day, “It’s good…It’s a way to move at least.”

Her smile softened, “That’s the spirit.”

She moved away, going to grab her basket of freshly folded laundry. Mando cleared his throat, leaning against the crutches a bit heavier than he needed to, “I want to go look at my ship.”

“Oh…” Lydia turned and looked at him, placing the laundry basket on her hip, “Okay…Is that the first thing you want to do with your newfound mobility?”

Mando sighed, “Yes. Is that not impressive?”

“Well, I thought you’d want to frolic,” Lydia replied, going to the dresser near the corner wall. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out the cottage had no bedroom. Just the refresher, kitchen, and the main room where the fireplace and bed were, along with the tiny hall. Mando had gotten a feel for the layout, just in case…And plus being bored in bed for days and days and days makes a person think. She began to put the laundry away, going on, “But we can if you’d like. You might regret it once those things rub into your arms a little bit.”

Mando ignored the comment. Honestly, getting out of that cottage was the best thing he could imagine. Despite it being warm, and him growing used to the sounds of her making medicines, and cooking food, and washing things – he had grown too comfortable, besides the bed underneath him that had caused him to go stir crazy. Lydia looked at him as she finished what she was doing, setting the basket aside as she said, “Let me put on some shoes.”

Mando looked down at his own feet. Something that had remained besides his armor that she had placed somewhere were his shoes that he had noticed days ago were set by the door. As Lydia went and got her own little shoes that were actually quite like hiking boots that laced up, he went and grabbed his own…Hobbling a bit with the crutches. He sat on the edge of the bed, putting the boot on his right foot quite easily, placing it over the black pants, but the left was a bit more difficult with the splint and him not being able to bend his knee. Lydia stood suddenly and moved forward, scolding humorously, “Careful, you don’t look like the kind of man that can touch his toes.”

He looked at her, face blank as unamused as he refused to hand the boot over. Her eyes rolled once more, before he watched her kneel down in front of him, her eyes lifting to stare into his own as she took his ankle and set it between her legs. Mando swallowed, inhaling as he looked at her, her hand held out expectantly and when he took too long in his stupor she huffed, and took the boot herself shaking her head, “Goodness, you’re so stubborn.”

She put the boot on, careful with the splint. It seemed silly, he couldn’t hardly put weight on the leg anyway, but still…Just in case. She stood, and Mando gathered his bearings, taking his shirt from the foot of the bed and slipping it over his head, before standing once more and adjusting the crutches. Lydia went to the old wooden door, opening it and offering to let Mando be the first to exit the cottage. Mando did so, greeted by sunlight and the sound of the bird intensified. The breeze was cool as always, the sky blue and clouds large and puffy. The front of the cottage was covered in vines and other plants, and he could see Lydia’s garden just a little bit away with a tiny white fence around it that probably only went up to his calf. The walkway was pebbles and Lydia shut the door, stepping around him. It was very green and colorful, a stark contrast from the desert planets he often visited. But he had remembered the green coming in fast, before he had remembered nothing at all –

“Coming?” Lydia chimed, having stepped around him and walked down the pebble path a few feet. Mando said nothing, but began to follow her, the pebbles crunching beneath his crutches as they went and they made it to only grass, before being enveloped into the trees near the edges of her little home. There had been a dirt road in the opposite direction to where they began their walk into the woods, and lucky for Mando the undergrowth wasn’t bad and it made it easier to maneuver himself. Lydia walked ahead of him, her hands folded behind her back as she went.

“So, you called this place Eprea,” It was more of a statement than a question.

Lydia smiled over her shoulder, “Yes…We do logging and agriculture mostly. It’s a nice place to live. And the people are very kind.”

“Besides the bandits,” Mando stated.

Her head turned away, and he saw the way her shoulders stiffened from behind and her hands behind her back squeezed each other harder. Her head lowered a bit to watch her feet as she walked, “Besides the bandits, yes. But I think most of us have grown used to them.”

“You don’t seem to be,” Mando replied, “You seem scared.”

She let out a deep breath, “Mando, you are being very pushy today.”

“You’re pushy all the time,” He grunted. She had been right, the crutches sucked when maneuvering through the woods, sticks and stones getting in the way as he went on, “Seems odd that the healer with her blade would be afraid of some bandits.”

She stopped walking suddenly, and he nearly trampled her but he stopped short, her head tilted to look up at him as they were inches from each other. She looked unamused, but then again so did he. She expected quite a bit of answers from him, but lived behind a façade of being a simple healer and nothing more. Of course, she had mentioned her father teaching her things…But Mando didn’t think it was as simplistic as that and maybe the prying made him feel better. Maybe it gave him back a sense of control since she now knew his face…Knew him.

“I know as a man you probably don’t see the world quite like I do,” She whispered, her eyes pained, “But don’t mistake being used to something as not fearing it.”

Mando tilted his head, looming over her, “And what do you fear?”

She swallowed thickly, her eyes averting to look at his chin rather than his eyes any longer, her mouth parting as if to speak but then coming out dry like a silent croak. Her head shook slowly, and she replied as if choosing her words carefully, “I fear servitude. I fear people who take and take and take…With no regard for who it harms.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re talking around it.”

“Why would I tell you?” She hummed, grimacing, “You won’t even tell me why you’ve chosen to hate me.”

Mando felt venom rise…

“I chose nothing.”

And it was true. He had not chosen for Grogu to go, despite him telling the kid it was okay…It wasn’t what he truly wanted. He had not chosen to crash. He had not chosen for his armor to be removed. And he had not been able to choose to hate her, despite how badly he wanted to. He moved around her, beginning to go before he paused, realizing she had to lead them. He nodded his head behind himself and ordered lowly from inside his chest, “Walk. _Now_.”

“That’s very direct,” She mumbled, but took the opportunity to escape the conversation, doing as she was told and beginning to lead them again, continuing, “You seem the kind to be demanding.”

Mando shook his head, following. She was fucking infuriating sometimes, and maybe it was because her words were capable of getting under his skin in a way he had not anticipated. Mando growled, “I don’t like to waste time. I see what you do every day, you spend half of it staring off into space.”

Lydia whipped her head around but continued going, “Ha! _You’re_ one to talk, glaring at the wall all day. For your information, I actually think about things when I’m doing that. What do you think about? More ways to be stubborn and make things difficult for me?”

She then faced forward again, continuing, “I’m only trying to help you. That’s all I’ve been trying to do since I pulled you from your crash, and I’m really starting to think the demons themselves sent you from the sky!”

Mando felt his face burn with anger, but before he could retort, they made it to the edge of some kind of hill. Trees grew along the sides and there was a ravine further down, and inside that ravine he saw…His ship. Mangled, bruised, and broken…Pieces of his things…Weapons…All alike lying about the wreckage. At least it looked like no one had happened upon it and ransacked it. A stark contrast from Tatooine. Mando stared a few moments and Lydia gestured down to it, “Well? Have at it.”

He looked at her. Nothing escaped his mouth as he started to maneuver his way down the ravine. Luckily it wasn’t terribly steep, but when he looked back at Lydia she appeared as if she regretted telling him to go…As if he was going to break his leg all over again. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine how she had managed to drag him from the wreckage…Armor and all. Dead weight. Mando somehow made it to the bottom of the ravine, and he heard her following, leaves and sticks rustling as she came down before she stopped a little bit behind him.

Truthfully, it wasn’t as bad off as the Razor Crest had been, but it was difficult to beat that. Mando picked up a few weapons scattered, and metal pieces, beginning to hobble and pile things, Lydia following in suit hesitantly as if their argument had been forgotten in favor of a sense of mourning. The ship wasn’t a lost cause, but he knew…It would take a lot of time, money, and energy to get it fixed up. And he would probably have to wait a bit longer until his leg had healed more to be able to do it properly. Which meant it would be even longer before he could escape this situation, and this girl. And the itching underneath his skin that had formed days ago, which was just misplaced lust for some unknown reason. He had never found himself to be very weak towards a pretty face – but he supposed temptation was a thing of its own and he couldn’t be above it. But it didn’t stop him from thinking as such.

The piles grew, and Mando glanced up the ravine one more time before he slowly bent over with the crutches digging into him, “How the hell did you get me out of here?”

She replied, continuing to do what she was doing as she asked offhandedly, “What? Do I not look super strong?”

Mando gave her an unamused look and she sighed when he did not laugh at her joke, before she looked at the edge of the ravine as well and she answered, “Adrenaline I guess…I ran here, there was a bit of a fire but not a bad one. Still, I didn’t know if the thing would explode or not so I just kind of…dragged you out…I put you on a tarp and dragged you up and through the woods until we could get back to my home.”

Mando was almost bewildered by the thought of her managing such a thing all before he had been stripped of the beskar. And it was odd, out there with her in just…normal clothing – in front of another person in the open without his armor covering him. Truly, he had never been like that before, just able to feel leaves and such brush his skin like nothing. She bent down and picked something up, a perplexed look on her face as she held the object up. Light from between the trees glinted off of it and Mando’s expression turned hard when he realized what it was.

Grogu’s ball.

Mando inhaled, uses his crutches to approach her and once he was in arm’s length, he snatched it from her hand. She flinched at his aggressiveness, looking at him with eyes that almost held hurt behind them, taking her own wrist in her hand as if he had struck her. Mando quickly pocketed it, and Lydia questioned in a whisper, “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Mando replied lamely, going back to what he was doing.

Lydia let out a sigh, she seemed to do that a lot in response to his tantrums and he just couldn’t understand himself…Why he was so mean to her. He knew it was because of this forced hatred that seemed to be second nature to him – he _needed_ to hate her to fill a void. But it was conflicting with her hands, the way she treated him…Did his fucking laundry and made him food and damn it – even bathed him. The way her hands felt on his skin, when he hadn’t felt someone’s touch in so long. Maybe he had just latched onto the first person that had offered him such gentleness, or the first person to see his face since he was a child.

He looked back and his eyes flitted to her lips as she huffed, “Okay well…We can get what you want to bring back to the cottage with us, and as soon as you’re better you can fix your ship, and I’ll unpack your armor.”

And Mando felt the frustration arise at the second mention of his armor out of her mouth.

“My armor,” He snapped, teeth gritted together, “Right, no, see I can never put that armor on again because of you.”

He wasn’t yelling, but there was a certain chill to his voice that he saw caused her stiffen, her brows pulling downward. She questioned him in a whisper, sounding almost winded, “What? Why?”

Mando scoffed, shaking his head…

“Because you saw my face. You broke my Creed.”

Her brows were furrowed, as if she couldn’t make sense of what he was saying and she questioned him, moving a bit forward hesitantly as if he was a wild injured animal, and he was starting to think he really was when he gripped his crutches as she got close enough for him to smell the soap in her hair, “What do you mean? A…A Creed?”

Mando leaned down, getting so close to her face they could feel each other breathing as he spoke low and slowly, making her understand the words, “My Creed never allowed another living thing to see my face. No one could take off that helmet. But you broke it, and per the Creed, I can never put my armor on again.”

He watched her swallow thickly, “That’s…That’s insane…Of course you can put your armor back on.”

Mando’s hand shot out in response to the judgement in her tone, gripping her arm and in response, she reached into the slit of her skirt, grabbing something underneath which he assumed to be the blade on her thigh. She did not unsheathe it and he did not move his hand that held her tightly. Her chin raised a bit, pupils going big with adrenaline at what he assumed she feared would be an ensuing fight. Slowly, he released her arm and he watched her released her hidden blade. Her face softened and she cleared her throat, “What I meant was…I don’t think anyone will try to stop you. I didn’t even know you couldn’t remove your helmet. Chances are no one else does.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Mando stated bluntly, “It never did.”

Lydia blinked at him rapidly, “You mean to tell me no one has ever seen your face?”

“No,” Mando didn’t know why she couldn’t get it through her head as he went on, “No one has…Not since I was a child. It had remained that way, but now it’s over.”

Her dark eyes stared at him, and he saw pain flash across her features. Her gaze averted a few moments, glancing around hurriedly as if she could not focus on anything before she found him once more. Her head shook and she whispered softly, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Mando. You were hurt, and – You needed help, I needed to take the armor off you to save you. You would have died otherwise.”

Mando answered bitterly…

“I would rather be dead.”

And he could not decide if that was the truth or not as he watched the hurt morph into her features.

…

They brought back several of his weapons to the cottage just to get them out of the elements…Along with some of his clothing.

Lydia had held her tongue for most of that time. Mostly because she didn’t know what to say to him now that she knew what she had done – and why he had spent so much time hating her…Silent and cruel and hopeless. She had destroyed something important to him. So important he would rather the option of death and something like that wouldn’t wrap around in her mind, but she had never been someone that had ideals that needed to be stuck to, to such a degree. She healed, and held that to a high standard in her mind, but other than that…The only rule she had was to treat whoever needed it with all that she had. And she had done that with Mando, but apparently her ideals clashed with his in that way.

Her delivery to the village had never involved another person joining her, but even after their argument Mando had forced her to let him come, despite her insisting he should be resting his leg. He seemed to have no interest in getting back into that bed to the point he was willing to endure their awkward silence and his crutches just to escape it. Lydia carried to vials in a box in her arms while he walked along with her – the only sound coming from his crutches hitting the dirt with each step. She wondered if he realized that by going into town even more people were going to see his face, but maybe he viewed it as too late. Even the children had seen his face when they had come to get Linus’ finger fixed.

She felt sorry, but she did not know how to apologize. Honestly, if it was something he was willing to die for…It was obviously extremely important to him. She had not expected much more from him. Not after the words he had spoken, and something about the way he had been acting told her he was sorry for being so blunt and open with her. Truthfully, maybe she had deserved it, she didn’t know. She was torn between having saved his life and his personal convictions. She wondered if she had known, if she would have done the same thing all over again. Guiltily…She probably would have saved him every single time.

She cleared her throat and questioned, “You’re not hurting, right? We can stop and rest if you need.”

Mando glanced at her. He didn’t seem angry anymore like earlier, more so regretful as he cleared his throat and answered, “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Lydia stumbled over her words, “We really can stop –“

“I’m fine,” He interrupted.

Lydia nodded, swallowing thickly as she adjusted the box in her arms, the vials clanking a little. She could see the town up ahead anyhow and she felt like she could relax a bit, knowing she would no longer have to suffer in their silence the closer they got to relief. The town was quaint, with mid-sized buildings, mostly shops and other necessities. People gathered there daily, just to conversate and trade and buy and sell, and she only really came when she needed something she couldn’t make or had to sell medicines to the town’s physician. The entrance to the town was framed by two large trees on either side of the dirt road, and both she and Mando crossed the threshold, immediately catching the attention of some children near the town’s center where a fountain gurgled and they were dropping stones inside. They squealed upon seeing them enter, rushing towards them and Lydia smiled as they did, and she slowly set her box down at her feet on the ground.

When she looked at Mando, he wore a look of confusion as the children crowded them quite suddenly and she saw him nearly stumble back on his crutches to get away. Lydia stifled a giggle, before she looked at the children and they were all speaking at once, ‘Miss Lyddies’ rising into the air like a chorus. Lydia knew precisely what they wanted and reached into the pocket of her skirt, pulling out several candies before she held out her cupped hands and ordered the little voices, “Calm down, calm down, I have your candies.”

Their little grabby hands snatched the candies, followed by thank yous from them all. The children quickly turned their attention to Mando, who looked almost distressed by the attention as they questioned rapidly…

“Are you the one who fell from the sky?”

“Where are you from?”

“I heard you were a man in armor!”

Lydia shushed them gently, before she answered for him, “He’s a warrior. He is only here until his leg gets better, but be polite and don’t ask so many questions of him. Prying is rude, remember?”

Their heads nodded all in unison.

Lydia smiled at them, then at Mando who had relaxed a bit but he made no effort to answer the questions they had asked. He was probably overwhelmed. Lydia leaned over and murmured to him, “I’m sorry. They don’t see many new people around here, and rumors spread. A man dressed in metal is something they’ve never heard of.”

A little girl piped again, “So what are you!?”

“Yeah!” A boy added, “A knight? Like in the story books?”

His dark eyes flickered to each of them, silent and studying. He was uncomfortable and she felt like he should have stayed at the cottage, but he had been the one to refuse after all. To her surprise though, he did answer the children rather gruffly, “I’m a Mandalorian.”

There were quiet ‘oooooooo’s in the crowd and Lydia grinned wider at their reactions. One child stood on his tiptoes and he exclaimed, “I know what those are! No one can break their armor!”

Something about Mando’s expression told her he wished such a thing was true. Lydia cleared her throat, beginning to wave at the children to disperse as she ordered, “Alright, back to playing all of you. We’ve got medicines to deliver to Physician Toadum. Go, go, go!”

Several of them pouted, but they ran off nonetheless. Lydia picked the box back up and she began to walk, Mando following with his crutches. He questioned her, “Do you just carry candy in your pocket in case a swarm of toddlers attack you?”

“They’re a bit older than toddlers,” Lydia chuckled, “And no, not always. But when I come to the town I know that’s what they’ll be looking for so I always bring some.”

He only hummed at her answer. Lydia tilted her head and questioned almost hesitantly, “So…A Mandalorian, huh?”

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “Yes.”

“I’ve never heard that word,” She mused, “But Mando makes a lot more sense now.”

He didn’t say anything. She figured his mind was still swirling around his helmet, and his belief his armor could never be put on again. She was still sorry, filled with regret of how she could have handled it differently, so she simply set her attention on Physician Toadum’s office up ahead, climbing the steps and looking back to make sure Mando could make it to the front porch. The door slid open with the press of a button and she was greeted by his office, Mando following inside, having to duck a bit because of the low entryway. Lydia approached the front counter, calling into the small room that echoed with old wood, “Physician Toadum!”

She could see Mando looking around, particularly fascinated by a fish tank in the corner of the room, making her chuckle and roll her eyes before she called a bit louder, leaning over the counter with most of her body, “Mister Toadum!”

The look Mando shot her was one of irritation at her screaming, but it did the trick. An old man peered around the corner, with his thick glasses blinking at her making his eyes look ten times wider than they actually were. She grinned back at him as he came forward and he spoke through his rough yet kind voice, “Oh, Miss Lyddie. You made it! I was starting to think you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, I made it,” Lydia nodded, pushing the box to him, “Here’s your order. I added a few extra allergy stoppers in the mix, you know because of the season.”

The physician nodded appreciatively, “You’re too kind. I’ve had so many little ones come in with the sniffles.”

He seemed to notice Mando standing near the fish tank and he clapped his hands together and exclaimed, “Ah! And is this your patient you’ve been nursing?”

Lydia laughed nervously, looking at Mando, knowing he would be uncomfortable from the attention as the physician moved around the counter. Per Physician Toadum’s personality, he did not hesitate to suddenly kneel in front of Mando and take his splint in his hand, causing Mando’s brows to furrow with a mix of confusion and annoyance. Lydia grimaced as Physician Toadum studied it, “Looks like you did a beautiful job! I don’t even see a hint of swelling!”

Mando pulled his leg free, before he stepped back with the crutches and Toadum looked up, still appearing excited as he shook his head, “Oh pardon me, young man. I’m Toadum, the town’s physician! And you are?”

She half-expected him not to reply to the man, but to her surprise, Mando grunted…Eyeing Toadum as if he was an odd creature indeed…

“Mando.”

“Ah Mando!” Toadum was always so loud and she knew Mando was probably about to lose it, “So, a Mandalorian I presume? I heard you had armor, that would make sense to me. Isn’t that right, Miss Lyddie?”

Lydia nodded, “Yes uh…That’s right. Mando, Physician Toadum gave me advice on how to fix your leg.”

“And she did a great job!” Toadum added, “Without her, I think you’d be walking with a prosthetic right about now. If it were me, I might not have taken the time to save it. I like the quick results. Miss Lyddie is much more meticulous.”

Mando’s face contorted, “Well…Thank Maker you didn’t see me fall from the sky then.”

Toadum punched the man’s arm playfully causing Lydia to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh in response to Mando’s expression. Toadum didn’t seem to notice the irritation as he said, “That’s the spirit!”

Mando shot her a look as if to say ‘are you serious’ but she just shrugged, and grimaced. Physician Toadum raised his hands up and said, “Oh! Let me get your payment for the medicines. One second, I have it in the safe in the back.”

Lydia nodded as he disappeared. Mando approached with his crutches hitting the floor with each movement and he spoke under his breath, “He would have cut my leg off?”

“That’s what he suggested I do,” Lydia smiled sheepishly, “But I really believed I could fix it, so I kept him away from the whole process. He can be very opinionated when he wants to be and I was already pretty stressed out from trying to get the wreckage shrapnel out of you.”

She felt his gaze bore into her. It felt more intense, sort of like when they were having their conversation near the wreckage of his ship. She blinked up at him, trying to read his expressions, wishing she could just reach inside and pull out what he was thinking but she could not. It looked like he was going to say something, but the physician returned suddenly around the corner, and Mando’s eyes averted, looking at the floor as he leaned away and Toadum came up behind her, holding out her credits. He was still grinning, “Here you go! That should cover it, yes?”

“Yes,” Lydia returned his smile, “Thank you.”

She and Mando both moved to the door but suddenly Physician Toadum called behind their backs, sounding far more serious and less cheery than he had just moments before as he ordered…

“Miss Lyddie, be sure to save that,” He ordered, “Those…well, you know whos’ will come looking for their taxes very soon, and I do always worry about you during that time.”

Lydia glanced at Mando, who was staring at her with a hard but confused gaze. Like he thought he knew something…but truly did not. Lydia felt a lump in her chest as she croaked, “Thank you, I’ll be sure to save it.”

The two of them exited back into the sunlight and Lydia sighed, as they went back to the road of the town, going towards where they had entered. Her mind wandered under the sun, hands squeezing into her shirt as Toadum’s words bounced in her head. She often spent a lot of time ignoring such things, but it was hard when it came up from someone else, someone else that experienced their lives in their home. Her heart was stuttering. The money would not be enough by itself, and she was behind for the quarter…But she hoped she still had time until then. She jumped when Mando broke the silence after several minutes of walking down the dirt road towards home…

“What did he mean by that?”

His tone was serious. Not curious, but as if he had perceived the words as a threat and she supposed they were. She blinked up at him and forced herself to sound nonchalant as she waved him off, “Nothing…Just, you know – the bandits. They can get a bit greedy.”

“No,” Mando pressed, “What did he mean about worrying about you in particular?”

She felt herself feel smaller. She hated feeling that way – it was against everything her father had ever taught her about handling people…Or perceived threats. Her brain was rattling in her skull, searching inwardly for something that could free her. But nothing could, and her avoidance seemed futile and silly as she ran a hand through her hair, “They just like to pick on me in particular, is all.”

Suddenly, Mando cut her off, and she nearly rammed into him, having to press her hands to his chest to stop herself from toppling over him…But even with the crutches he was unmoving and she stepped back hurriedly – removing the contact. Mando pushed, tone even and not allowing room for lies, despite her desperation to avoid an explanation, “What does that _mean_?”

Lydia stared, brown eyes pleading…

“What do you think it means?”

A look flashed over his face. Knowing.

“Do they…”

“No,” Lydia interrupted, averting her gaze, “No…not that. Not yet.”

She brushed past him, saying nothing more on the subject. It wasn’t long before she heard him following behind her. She knew he wanted to push the subject more, she could feel it with his eyes on the back of her neck. She didn’t know if she could stomach to explain it further, it had not gone to the point he had thought – but each time they returned she knew it was nearer to her future as she made less and less money to pay them off. Her eyes burned, but she was quick to blink the wetness away with her back to Mando.

Upon arriving back at the cottage, Lydia immediately grabbed her basket, going to the garden in front of the home. She had somewhat hoped Mando would go inside and she could have a moment alone to gather her bearings while she picked the fresh vegetables and fruit that had grown, but instead he lowered himself onto the wooden bench beside the door. Lydia hid her displeasure, keeping her eyes on the ground as she felt him watching her – as if he felt that doing so would eventually pull all the information he needed from her. As if it would tell him what he wanted to know, that she simply would not reveal. Maybe it was wrong, she had forced him to share his face without his permission, but the terror such a topic struck her with was nauseating.

She didn’t take the time to put on her gloves, so tiny cuts found themselves on her already scarred fingers. She ignored it though, in favor of ripping the plants from the ground and filling her basket – pretending she was alone, despite her body being weary. When she swore she had picked everything ripe, her eyes lifted to look at him. He was leaning back on the bench, arms over his chest and legs out, as if relaxing…Staring. She gripped her basket tighter, stepping over the fence as she approached him up the path and she stopped directly in front of him.

Lydia inhaled, reaching into her basket and pulling out some purple berries…

She slipped them into his hand and he took them, brows furrowed.

“Try them,” She said, “Careful though, they’ll turn your tongue purple.”

And with that…She disappeared inside.

…

Mando had figured he had made her angry…

But oddly enough, that night she trimmed his beard.

Truthfully, his facial hair had gotten out of hand from being in bed for so long. Maybe Lydia had noticed his discomfort, because she had offered to do so after dinner when she had finished cleaning everything up. She had brought over a towel to catch the stray hairs and some scissors. The hair wasn’t particularly long, but it was certainly longer than was used to and he wanted at least a little bit gone, so when she had offered he had not denied her. A part of him…Deep inside knew that his prying earlier had upset her truly…And maybe he was just letting her do what she wanted to make up for it, but then again that didn’t seem the right response to someone he viewed as his enemy.

When she sat down, she was silent…She had been quiet most of the evening. Her soft hands touched his face, and did not look into his eyes, instead focused on her task as she went ahead and started her work. Mando stared ahead, glancing at her from time to time, her tongue between her lips in a similar focus she had worn when she had sutured him that first day after waking and pulling a stitch. He could feel her breathing, feel her warmth so close and he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her – those thoughts returning to him, but he quickly shoved them down. Her head moved to the side to view the other side of his face and she questioned, “So I’m guessing not many people have touched your face?”

Try no one. Mando poked his tongue into his cheek and replied, “No.”

“Right,” She hummed, “So did you just learn to cut your own hair or something?”

Mando’s brows furrowed, “It’s not hard.”

“No I suppose not for some people,” She actually smiled and he felt relieved by it, though he didn’t know when he had started caring whether she smiled or not. Her fingers were gentle on his cheek as she tilted his head, and his mouth went dry when they slid along his cheekbone as if absentmindedly, but for some reason it made him nearly jolt.

Mando cleared his throat and tried to shift his thoughts, “So they all know you in town…”

“They do,” She replied, “They quite liked my father.”

Her thumb pressed the corner of his mouth, this time actually making him jolt as she laughed softly, “Stop frowning so much, you’re going to make your beard look all wonky.”

Mando felt his heart slam against his chest. Her eyes glancing at his, before holding a moment…Looking a bit confused suddenly. Lydia tilted her head, lowering the scissors before she questioned him, “Are you alright?”

He continued to frown a bit.

Fuck…

“Lydia,” He was almost sure this was the first time he had said her name, and she looked taken aback by him speaking it. Her eyes searched his as he went on, “What you did…Bothering to save my leg – and managing to get me out of the ravine. I do…I _do_ appreciate it.”

Her mouth opened a bit, but no words escaped her as she shook her head back and forth. Suddenly, she croaked quietly, “What you said…You don’t have to take it back. Truly. If it is what you meant – if your Creed really means so much to you, I should apologize. I’m the one who has taken that from you.”

Mando stared. Right, and that was why he was supposed to be hating her. Why he was supposed to be viewing her as an enemy. But in that moment between the two of them, in the dim lighting and her chest rising and falling, he didn’t really care. He thought of her hands on him – and he was wrong, he was a piece of shit for viewing it in such a way…As seeing it as anymore than her just trying to nurse him back to health, but his mind kept being invaded by her skin, her hands, and his desire to put his mouth on hers and have her for himself. Hate and lust had intertwined in his mind, he had lost his Creed but it felt like if he could just touch her, he could have it back again and –

Mando closed the space between them, taking her mouth to his own.

Both of his hands shot up, cupping under her chin to the back of her head, pulling her close. She didn’t resist, though she made a surprised sound – not pushing him away…But her hands went over his own on her skin as if she didn’t know what to do with them as he pressed his tongue to her mouth, requesting entrance. She allowed it, and he deepened the kiss more, a whimper escaping her as he grabbed her roughly under her arms, yanking her forward to his lap, putting her against his chest as he continued to move his mouth on hers, relishing in the small sounds she made…His hand going to tighten in her hair to push her further into himself.

His hand slipped under her skirt, gripping her thigh and he supposed the blade was on the opposite side, her smooth skin greeting his calloused hand as he squeezed, hand sliding up. He felt her underwear there, hand going to cup her bottom and when he did she gasped a bit into the kiss, her hands holding onto his bare shoulders where he had removed his shirt that evening. His other arm went around her back, pulling her as close as he could possibly get her, their bodies warm together and he felt that same hardness return – wanting something so desperately and yet –

Lydia yanked away suddenly.

The moment she did, Mando released her, allowing her to fly backward off the bed and his lap, stumbling a bit as she put a bit of distance between them. Her shirt was pulled down to expose a bit of her bra, her curls having gone messy and her mouth swollen as she pressed the back of her hand to it, pushing her skirt down. She had obviously come to her senses, clearly still dazed though as she looked at him. Mando’s chest heaved and he felt immediate guilt at seeing her flushed cheeks, and her eyes had gone teary suddenly. Mando shook his head and apologized breathlessly…

“I’m sorry.”

Her own chest was rising and falling rapidly as well as she shook her head and croaked weakly, “It’s…no it’s just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Mando spoke firmly, tone even and hard.

Lydia closed her eyes, and sniffed a bit, turning her face away in the slightest to gather herself. Lydia spoke again through a broken throat, “I should – I do, Mando…I just…You confuse me…”

He confused himself. Lust was lust, and she had been so close to him. He still felt hard, and he still wanted her – but it was clear it had been too much. Maybe he just wanted to fuck her, but that seemed so wrong. She removed her hand from her mouth, her shoulders straightening like he had noticed she often did, as if it was a way to get herself under control emotionally. She appeared to cover everything quickly, before she said, “I don’t understand.”

Maybe it was fueled by his loss of everything. Grogu, his ship, his armor, his fucking ability to walk for the next several weeks. She had been a constant since he had woken up, and that was wrong of him, he was being wrong. He spoke evenly…

“I don’t expect you to.”

Because he did not either. And he had not made it easy for her.

She seemed even more confused by his words. Mando ground his teeth together, looking from her to pinch the bridge of his nose in regret. He was fucking losing his mind in that house with her, in those four walls…Bound to that bed, only able to wabble where she took him into town and into the woods. Seeing her face everyday, associating it with all of those touches, her voice, her hands. Lydia came forward again and Mando tensed, watching her as she starting to pick up the scissors and the towel that had been forgotten about. Her hands were shaking and she breathed, “I didn’t get to finish.”

Mando was silent as she sat back down. It was awkward, but she reached up again, and he saw the pink edges around her eyes and her nose was a little pink as well as she continued what she had been doing before he had grabbed her. He supposed he had just made his stay in that house even more…uncomfortable. His true thoughts out in the open, at least in a physical sense as she worked. Her gaze flickered to him and she said nothing and he recalled she had just wanted him to befriend her and now he had made it…wrong.

Lydia broke the silence.

“We can pretend it didn’t happen,” Her eyes didn’t meet his as she busied herself with finishing off his trimming, “Okay? We can just…pretend.”

She pulled away, finished.

Lydia pressed, “Right?”

Mando’s mind screamed…Screamed that the thoughts had burrowed too deeply.

But his mouth betrayed him, and his response was simple…

“Right.”


	4. The Downpour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is mature! And more mentions of assault when discussing the bandits.

Lydia thought about his mouth on hers for a long time.

And for the days that followed.

Per their agreement, neither of them had mentioned it again, and she felt the way he shied away from her when she attempted to touch him in assistance at times. He had always tensed, but now it was as if he was shoving her away some moments, leaning to stay away from her and she understood – she had made him uncomfortable…Had probably deterred him with her show of emotion that night. It had just been…It had been a rather deep shock to the system honestly. She had not expected it from him…So much time had been spent with him glaring, speaking so coldly towards her – the sudden switch from that to his warm lips, it had been startling.

Shamefully inviting.

It shocked her, the way it had felt when he had reached under her skirt. The way it made her feel, and rolled over where she laid on the floor, looking at Mando. He was still awake, having spent days and days now on that silly little com. Sometimes their silences were comfortable, like then…But it might have been because he thought she was trying to sleep. She inhaled deeply and she questioned into the dimly lit room, “Mando?”

His head turned to look down at her. There was a long moment where he simply stared at her, the com between his fingers as he did so. She blinked a few times and continued once she had his attention, “You don’t have to keep working on that thing.”

Mando grunted, “It’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”

“Right,” Her mouth quirked upward a bit, “I can see you’re invested at this point. It’s fine, I just wanted to make sure you knew not to get… _too_ invested.”

She paused, then, “Besides, it’s time for bed, it’s not like you’re doing nothing.”

He only hummed, like he usually did when he was tired of chatting. Lydia grimaced just a bit, and sat up slowly, pulling up the sleeve of her nightgown that fell off her shoulder. She asked him, “Can you not sleep?”

His eyes flickered to hers from the com. He then answered ever so bluntly, “Haven’t tried yet.”

Lydia watched his expression. The way he refused to meet her gaze. She had grown used to him being this way ever since the kiss. The unmentionable aspect of their past weeks together. Days and days of silence, arguing, more silence, and then that…Coming from nowhere. She wondered if it was worse for them to just ignore it, but she knew nothing else to do about it. Nothing else to…to smother it with. She instead pushed her own thoughts to the back of her mind, and stood from where she had been lying down. She turned to where he was sitting and nodded her head towards the door and she ordered, “Follow me.”

She wanted the strangeness gone.

Mando lowered the object in his hands and he asked, “Where?”

“Somewhere,” She replied cryptically, “C’mon, up, up, up.”

She took his crutches where they were leaning against the nearby wall and she held them out for him to take. He pushed the blankets away, only wearing his sleep pants and his splint as he stood. Quickly she moved to the door, not bothering with her shoes as she pushed it open and she heard Mando hesitantly follow behind. The crutches continued behind her, hitting the pebbles and she heard him sigh deeply, “Where is somewhere?”

Lydia led by the moonlight, though it was dimmer, only a small crescent shining upon them. Which meant it would be a good night for such as this. Lydia moved into the woods, whirling around and keeping her nightgown close as not to get stuck to any branches, “You’ll see, don’t be impatient.”

He hummed, as quiet as always. She whirled back around, looking up between the trees as they walked and she questioned him curiously, “Where do you come from?”

“All over,” Was the ever-vague response.

She rolled her eyes with her back still to him as she walked through the woods, practically keeping on her tiptoes as to avoid any sharp sticks under her bare feet, “Where were you born?”

“Where were _you_ born?”

Lydia grinned to herself, “Here. But I’ve been to other places too…Mostly when my father was alive, we traveled a good bit for his trading business.”

There was silence besides the animals and bugs in the trees and she then pushed back, “Okay, your turn.”

It was quiet, and for a few moments she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. She wouldn’t have been extremely surprised. He was secretive, and had yet to even tell her his real name, and now she wondered if she knew it…If she’d ever be able to call him or see him as anyone other than Mando. The man who was always serious, with a splint, messy hair, and snored occasionally. She had noticed he often picked specific vegetables from his dinner, that he often rested in the afternoons, and even napped from time to time depending on the day. He struggled with eye contact, but she figured if he had been wearing a helmet in front of people since he was a child like he had said, eye contact would be a difficult thing. He did not like the fireplace to be on all the time, he got too hot, but Lydia was always cold. The rain annoyed him because he couldn’t get his crutches through the mud and it meant he had to spend the day inside. And he had been sneaking those berries ever since she had let him try them that one time and he had snuck so many she didn’t have enough to bake with.

She knew all these things in just her few weeks of getting know him, and yet she felt she knew so little of who he was.

Lydia tried to remind herself though not to be too sentimental. He was getting better by the day, and soon he would be able to walk without the crutches. Soon he would repair his ship and soon he would leave. So maybe if he hid things from her…It was for the better.

Her mouth nearly dropped open when she heard him say offhandedly…

“Aq Vetina.”

Lydia swallowed, and tried not to show the way her heart stuttered when he actually told her. It shouldn’t have mattered, it shouldn’t have been a big deal, it really and truly shouldn’t have…But for some reason it felt as if someone had handed her a box of new vials for bottling and she looked over her shoulder and smiled a bit, “I’ve never heard of it.”

“I haven’t been back since I was young,” Mando answered, “I don’t really remember what it looked like.”

Her brows furrowed, “So you didn’t grow up there?”

“No…” Mando said bluntly, without emotion in his tone as he explained, “Separatists attacked…Droids. My parents were killed, and the Mandalorians that were there trying to assist took me in and raised me as a foundling.”

A foundling…He had used the same word when he had spoken of the child some time ago. She slowed her pace a bit, just so she could walk beside him. Her eyes were pained as she looked up at him and said gently, “I’m very sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” He wasn’t looking at her, just continuing to limp along, “The Mandalorians were good to me.”

She felt guilt settle further. Ever since he had told her about the helmet, about his face, his armor, and his Creed…She had been struggling with a gnawing sensation of pain. She questioned him, “Is that why you’re so loyal to them?”

“I took a Creed,” Mando answered, still refusing to look at her and she wished he would, but he had been avoiding her eyes ever since that night…Ever since things had gotten a little out of hand…And she thought they were supposed to be pretending it hadn’t happened, but it felt like it had still, and it felt like an awkwardness would not relent from its hold on them.

Lydia shook her head, “Does your Creed not offer redemption?”

“It’s simple,” She could tell he didn’t want to explain it anymore, “You remove the helmet in front of someone or they remove it from you…You have broken the Creed. End of story.”

It didn’t sound fair. But Lydia didn’t push it because she didn’t want him to be angry with her as she was bringing him on their walk. They made it to the hill she was looking for, where the trees broke to greet them with a creek below. There were dirt steps carved out, something her great aunt had put there years and years and years ago…Or maybe her husband had, the one that had died when Lydia was only four. She was not sure, but she led Mando to them, gesturing for him to follow her down and she skipped merrily to the bottom where the clay met the water, looking back up as she finally made it. The clay was hard enough not to cause his crutches to sink, and before he got closer to the water, she rushed towards him and ordered hurriedly…

“Shut your eyes!”

His brows furrowed, “Why?”

“Just shut them,” She ordered again, putting a hand in front of his face so he could not see the water. He huffed, chest rising and falling in annoyance, but to her surprise he shut them hesitantly. Lydia grinned, taking him by his wrist and leading him forward, and he hopped as not to put weight on his leg but he could not use his crutches for a moment as she brought him to the edge of the water. Her eyes looked ahead and she removed her hand from over his face, before she said…

“Okay, look.”

His eyes opened and she looked at the water as well. Floating around were glowing blue orbs in the water, with long tentacles. Lydia folded her hands behind her back, as they lit up the water in the darkness, and she looked at Mando expectantly as he watched them swim around beneath the water. His brows were still pulled down, but now it was more perplexed than sceptic. He questioned her while still staring in the water, “What are they?”

“Fresh water jellies,” Lydia replied proudly, “They love to come out this time of year. I’ve not a clue where they come from, but my father used to bring me out here to catch them. We’d let them go of course…They don’t even sting! Isn’t that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard? Jellies that don’t sting.”

He hummed lowly, and he actually looked interested in them. Maybe not amazed, but interested at least. Lydia stepped into the water, bending down and maybe he hadn’t believed her because as she scooped one into her hand he stated, almost sounding exasperated, “What are you _doing_ –“

“No, _look_ ,” Lydia turned, holding one up in her cupped hands. She brought it over to him, holding it out in offering. He looked at her, sceptic once more and she laughed genuinely at his expression, “C’mon, I’m not gonna hand you a jelly that stings.”

Mando eventually raised his right hand, leaning on his crutch and she dropped the jelly into it. He didn’t flinch or anything…He barely reacted besides raising his eyebrows at the creature as it wiggled. Lydia looked at him expectantly, though she didn’t know what she was expecting exactly. Maybe some sort of excitement, but she was fine with just his interested stare. Maybe she just wanted him to comment a bit more, maybe she was trying to smooth the odd tension between them since the kiss. She had wanted to befriend him, and she had not expected the feeling that had arisen, though she had doubts his were similar to her own. The way his hands had grabbed her, lips had enveloped her, his mouth to her own – it had felt different from the way she felt. In which she just wanted to let him do what he pleased with her body, just to feel him close.

But it frightened her, those thoughts. Because she felt they were wrong. She was meant to be caring for him – helping him get better and then sending him on his way. It wasn’t meant to be anymore than that. He was going to leave, and she would go back to her life. Carefully he handed the jelly back over to her, and he actually hummed, “I’ve never seen one that doesn’t sting.”

“Something my father used to tell me was that they make themselves look all scary like normal jellies, but they’re just squishy underneath,” She set the jelly back into the water and it floated away. She looked over her shoulder and joked, “Like you.”

Mando rolled his eyes, adjusting his crutches. She wondered if he truly found her as annoying as he hinted at. The two of them moved from the creek and she turned to him, sudden words rising, though she didn’t know from where and she didn’t know why she spoke them, “I know you may not find this place very impressive if you’re technically from all over. What is it that you did before you crashed here?”

They headed back to the path in the woods as he remained silent. Sometimes he took these long pauses, so long at times she thought he was not going to reply to her. But usually he did – it just took time, not really as if he was looking for the perfect words, but as if he was in no rush to reply to her. Like someone who was calculated and calm, but at times he lacked calmness…She had noticed though he never yelled. When he was angry, if anything his voice lowered itself into a threat. But he didn’t seem angry or frustrated with her question as he replied, “Bounty hunting. I haven’t done it in some time…I was searching for the foundling’s people. But it’s what I plan to go back to when I leave here.”

But at the end there was a bit of hesitance. She figured it had something to do with his belief he could not put his armor back on but maybe he didn’t want to mention it for fear of another fight ensuing. She appreciated that…She didn’t want him to be angry with her, and the past several days of discomfort after the ‘event’…well, she lacked an interest in such conversations. She held the edges of her sleepshirt and said, “Bounty hunting, hm? I’ve met a bounty hunter before, a few actually…Strangely enough they’ve stopped here before for fuel and things like that. I suppose it’s one of the things about being in the Outer Rim.”

She paused, then, “None were Mandalorians though, you’re the first I’ve met.”

He didn’t respond and she wished to prompt him. Mostly because she wanted to ask more about the armor and the rules, but she knew it to be a sore subject for him. Still, she supposed it was better than the other subject they had agreed to avoid, and so she prompted him anyway, “The armor…I supposed it’s quite important to your traditions then? As a Mandalorian I mean.”

This time his response was easily pulled, “Yes. It’s…our armor is made of beskar, pulled from Mandalore. But, the planet isn’t much anymore, it’s…it’s cursed from years of war that flattened it into a desert. Beskar is…one of the strongest materials in the universe.”

He didn’t sound particularly proud. In fact, he sounded more like he was mourning. Her brows furrowed and she asked, “Why have I never heard of it?”

“Mandalorians are few and far between,” Mando said, “Most…died out in the purge, the Empire eradicated many of us. Including a lot of the Tribe I was involved with.”

She felt sorry again. First his parents, then the people that had raised him. Truly, it had been more painful when her father had died in her pre-teen years…The loss of her great aunt, well…She had been an adult then, and her great aunt had been very old. It only made sense for her to go soon. And she had never been as close to her as she had been to her father. Lydia tilted her head and apologized once more, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry every time I tell you something,” Mando replied, and she did wonder why he was revealing so much suddenly. He had been so tight lipped about everything, but now she felt she knew more about him than ever before. He almost seemed as if he was more willing to educate her on Mandalorian history than he was about himself though, but she could grasp much of him between the lines, held between her fingers before he could yank the information back and swallow it down like she felt he would if he could.

Lydia grimaced, “I suppose it never really helped me when my father died for people to apologize. But I think I understand now though it’s just the human condition. We feel the need to say something.”

“Sometimes being quiet is better,” He stated bluntly, and she shrunk a little.

“Right,” She agreed weakly, her chest constricting as she crossed her arms as if to protect her insides from something invisible, “Right, sometimes it is.”

Lydia was used to being quiet. She had spent many days quiet and alone in her home, but when Mando was there she wanted to speak to him. She wanted to know things, and the closer she got to the home – well…the less she felt she truly knew of him, even if he had told her a bit more. They had spent weeks together, and given much of that time had been spent with him unconscious or sleeping off his wounds, but still…She felt most of her other patients had been easier to pry into, to get information from. She didn’t even know his real name, and when they were on the pebble path to the front door, she moved in front of him…Cutting him off.

“Mando,” She said hurriedly so he wouldn’t step around her, but her movement almost made him drop his crutches and he looked at her oddly, “What’s your name?”

Mando stared, before he shook his head, “I told you, Mando is fine.”

“Well, yes it’s fine,” She slouched a bit, “But it’s not your name. Not your real one anyway.”

Mando blinked, then…

“It doesn’t really matter. My face was what mattered, and you’ve seen it – so…I think that’s plenty.”

…

Mando had touched women, but never with his helmet removed.

He watched her silently as she sat near the fire on the floor, sewing holes in his clothes that they had pulled from the crash. Honestly, those holes weren’t even caused by the crash, and she had been absolutely appalled at the state of them, but he didn’t spend much time shopping. So she had taken it upon herself to mend them to the best of her ability. The weather wasn’t the best anyway, and supposedly it was going to be raining for some time to come. They had woken that morning to such a forecast and Lydia had opened the windows just a bit to allow the soft sound of the water thudding against the roof above to be a bit louder to them, water sliding down the glass unto the windowsill. It smelled like rain, and Mando couldn’t remember the last time he had been somewhere green enough for the smell to not simply resemble that of muddy sand.

She looked small, curled over her work, her legs outstretched in front of her. Again, her tongue was between her lips in focus, he figured she was probably good at mending clothes if she had been so good at mending his skin. And her hands were always so steady. He figured she’d make a very good shot, but the blade on her thigh had told him that wasn’t a weapon she often dealt with. It made him wonder why she feared the bandits so, if she was trained – but then again…If there were a lot of them…And she was one person, it was probably a calculated realization she had come to that she could not fend them all off.

His eyes flitted to the wooden chest under the window. He knew that was where she was keeping his armor, and where he had stashed the weapons pulled from the crash. He considered, maybe when he was better he could do something about the issue…Like on the other planets he had visited. But with his leg the way it was, and the fact he was conflicted over the armor itself…He didn’t know. He didn’t even know if he was a Mandalorian any longer.

Lydia let out a triumphant noise, and set the pants aside she had been working on for the past half-hour and she jumped to her feet, stretching and pushing herself to her tiptoes with her hands above her head. He saw the bottom of the blade when her dress came up a bit higher, a thin short sword from what he could tell. Maybe he was thinking all of this for no reason, she had survived this long before he had crashed. Their awkwardness ever since that night days ago had drudged up the thoughts, and he just preferred to pretend it never happened like they agreed upon.

Lydia said, “All finished. Looks like you’ll get to leave this place with a mended leg and mended clothes.”

Mando swallowed, looking away as he said hesitantly, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Lydia replied, moving to the kitchen as she glanced back, “It’s pretty easy to mend holes, it’s embroidery that I never quite understood in school.”

She disappeared inside and Mando pushed himself up, grabbing the crutches that had become second nature. A part of him didn’t want to follow, he didn’t want to seem like a desperate puppy keeping track of her throughout the house…And he knew he had been doing it more often. He blamed it on wanting to get up and move more, to practice putting more weight on his leg. But he knew the guilty part of him…there was an underlying reason that he would not confront as he went into the kitchen and saw her beginning to pull out supplies. Her eyes found his and she said, “I’m going to bake some sweet bread…I was going to make a pie with those berries, but seeing as _someone_ ate them all…I suppose I’ll settle for this.”

Mando only grunted. She had been the one to show him the berries in the first place. He leaned back against the wall until she held up an egg in offering and asked, “Wanna help?”

He cleared his throat and shook his head, “I’ll ruin it.”

“It’s hard to ruin with someone helping,” Her smile was small, and he knew she had been putting in a lot of effort to make things comfortable again…Well actually they had never truly been comfortable. It was as if they had shifted from an air of him hating her, to an air of both of them knowing what had occurred that night he had kissed her – and yet neither confronted it because they were pretending after all. Mando had stopped lying to himself…He could not truly hate her, he didn’t have the energy any longer. He was so fucking tired, and her mouth had been so soft. But it was only…It was only a feeling, and nothing more than that. She had a pretty face, a distraction, a temptation, one he knew to be ignored.

Hesitantly, he came over and set his crutches aside, using the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen to hold himself up and put some weight against. She pushed the eggs towards him and ordered, “Four eggs, please.”

“Where did you get these?” Mando questioned, eyeing them, “You don’t have any animals.”

Lydia rolled her eyes humorously, “I told you, I get what I need from town. I would get animals, really I would – but I think I’m just a plant person…I’m not so good at keeping animals alive.”

Mando cracked the egg into the bowl in front of him and he set aside the shells, “It can’t be that different.”

“Oh it is,” Lydia replied, dropping flour in as he went on with the eggs, “My father used to have these evil birds – menaces quite honestly. He’d send me out every morning to get their eggs and they were so offended by it, I swear they’d try to peck my fingers off.”

Mando nodded to the scars on her fingers, “Is that where those are from?”

She chuckled, “Oh no…These are from just working in the gardens and cutting vegetables and things like that.”

Mando looked at her, almost bewildered as he said, “If you’re trained with a sword how do you manage to cut yourself?”

Lydia looked at him, feigned offense on her face as she put a hand on her chest, “Mister Mando, are you questioning my sword abilities? One day I’ll have to show you how good I really am. It’s quite different…If you think about it. And sometimes I’m just not careful when I’m trying to be quick about cutting up the veggies. I’m not nearly as meticulous as that old physician claims, he’s just too eager to remove limbs.”

Mando would agree, considering he had been the owner of one of the limbs that the physician had wanted to remove. He finished adding the eggs and Lydia handed him some measuring cups and a few other ingredients, with her own verbal instructions. He imagined how many recipes lived in her head, from the dinners she made at night and the medicines she created. He never saw her look at a book, and yet she remembered tiny things to add, the specific amount of salt. What root was needed for what tonic. Mando looked at her where she began to stir the ingredients together in the bowl, and she appeared so content…

Mando wondered how he had even dared to put his lips on hers, the way her own were lifted a bit in a smile, as if the mere action of making the bread had been enough for the day to be grand.

He had no right to have something like that under his hands.

The rain pelted the roof above, a bit of thunder rolling. When she finished stirring, she offered the spoon over to him and his brows furrowed as she said, “You can eat what’s left on it. You might not get sick from the raw eggs – honestly, I do it all the time and I’ve never been sick.”

Mando took the spoon…There was a vague memory in the back of his mind…So far away from before – well before the droids had come, and before that day. His mother stirring something and handing him a whisk and whatever he had eaten had been sweet. She turned away, to begin to prepare the sweet bread, and Mando took a hesitant bite. It didn’t taste like much, mostly just like sugar, but it was nice. She looked over her shoulder and questioned, “Well?”

Mando for some reason was…uncomfortable and he didn’t know why as he sat the spoon on the table and responded, “It’s fine.”

“Only fine?” She chuckled, “Mando, I feel like I’m never going to get a compliment out of you.”

He blinked. Was that something she wanted? A compliment? His face contorted into confusion as he cleared his throat, shifting a bit on his weaker leg to find the words, “Your…Your soup is nice.”

She let out a restrained laugh, more like a snort as she turned to face him and shook her head, grinning widely, “I’m sorry – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, really. Thank you. You don’t have to force compliments though, you poor thing.”

He was even more confused by her words if that was possible. It reminded him of Grogu, when the kid would be hungry but would refuse what Mando offered him. Or when he was crying from being sleepy, but would not sleep. Mando opened his mouth to say something, but both of their heads turned towards the living area when there was a loud and heavy knock at the door. Lydia shared his confused expression then, and she set down the rag she was holding before moving around the table, speaking, “Wonder who would come out in the rain.”

Mando watched her disappear, and he heard the door open. He listened, trying to hear the speaking over the rain, but there was only silence for a long drawn out second. When he did hear speaking finally, it was murmured, and he took his crutches, making his way towards the entryway of the kitchen and the main room. The closer he got, the louder the rain had become from the open door, and it stood only cracked a bit, and he noticed the way Lydia’s shoulders were stiffened as she held it. On the other side, Mando saw a man, probably around his own age…Face hard and covered in a bit of dark scruff. He was wearing a black coat, his head tilted and his mouth turned up a bit in what Mando could only describe was a smirk. Mando stood in the doorway, a little further back as not to be noticed as the man pushed his way in and he watch Lydia slowly give in and allow him to walk through.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” His low voice hummed, lowering the hood from his head as he came inside, “It’s pouring out there, Miss Lyddie.”

Mando watched Lydia swallow thickly, her hands folding in front of her as he saw her inhale a few times when the man shut the door behind himself. Mando glanced back at the table. He could use his crutches as weapons probably, there was a knife on the table as well if it came to it. But Mando had met enough people to know which were friendly and which were enemies and this one…At least from his demeanor and Lydia’s behavior, was not a friend.

Lydia questioned slowly…

“What – What’re you doing here, Ulysses?”

“Alec sent me to check in on you,” The man – Ulysses responded.

Lydia’s words came out cold, “Still on his leash?”

Ulysses seemed unfazed by her words, but his face grew more serious, the smirk disappearing as he loomed over her and Mando wondered when he should intervene, but Lydia’s fear wasn’t quite fear itself…More so frustration and anxiety. As if the man unnerved her but did not terrify her. Her arms moved to cross over her chest as he said in a low tone, “Listen, I didn’t want to come either. We both know babysitting you for Alec isn’t my favorite thing to do. But someone saw you in town the other day with a man in tow, and I don’t think that pleased Alec very much.”

“Why does it matter to him?” Lydia questioned, tone shaky, “As long as he gets his money, he stays away. That’s what he told me. That if I could pay the taxes like everyone else…He would keep away from me.”

Mando knew – this was a bandit. One of the ones Lydia had expressed fear of.

Ulysses nodded, and hummed, “Then I guess you better make sure you can pay then when we make our rounds, because otherwise…He won’t be as forgiving as this time.”

When the man stepped forward, Mando moved into the room with one stride, setting his crutches out of view and putting weight on the splint despite the twinge of pain. But he wasn’t about to walk out in front of the guy with an obvious injury. When Ulysses looked over, he looked slightly surprised, but then he grinned and put his hands in his pockets, greeting Mando, “Hello. You must be the man our little witness was referring to…”

He paused, looking at Lydia, “Sure hope you haven’t been wrapping those skinny little legs around him, Miss Lyddie, it’d be terrible if Alec found out – “

“You should go,” Lydia bit out, “Now.”

He teased, “I only just got here.”

“You should listen to her,” Mando stated bluntly, tone unyielding, yet not as threatening as if had been behind the modulator for so many years of chasing bounties, “Get out.”

Ulysses stared at him for a long moment before he questioned, “Do you know what you’re doing here, asshole? Do you know what she is?”

“I’m nothing,” Lydia snapped suddenly, eyes red around the edges as her voice trembled, “I have paid the money that has been demanded of me since I was eighteen – I’m nothing to Alec.”

Ulysses chuckled, “Not yet.”

He then looked back at Mando, before he raised his hands and backed to the door, still holding that same shit-eating grin on his face as he opened it and exited back out into the rain. Lydia was quick to push it closed, locking it and he watched her press her forehead to the door and inhale a few more times deeply, as if processing the exchange in her mind. Mando stood silently watching her, before she turned to face him again, sniffling a bit but he did not see tears besides her dark eyes going a bit bloodshot. Her hands grabbed at her dress and she murmured…

“Sorry,” Lydia whispered, “I didn’t know he was coming.”

“Who was he?” Mando questioned, taking a few steps forward and ignoring that he didn’t have on his crutches.

She seemed to notice though, quickly going to grab them from the kitchen and returning to shove them into his hands and he returned his weight to them to please her as she explained carefully, “Ulysses…He’s – He works for Alec…And Alec is kinda like…the leader of their bandits. Ulysses is just a right-hand guy, a lap dog…Does whatever Alec tells him. It’s weird, because Ulysses and I went to school together when we were young – before he grew up and decided he wanted to join them.”

Lydia’s head tilted, “We weren’t friends of anything, but we knew of one another. Like Alec…Alec was a few years older, he was sixteen when he helped his father and friends kill my dad.”

“And what?” Mando questioned coldly, “Alec has Ulysses babysit you?”

Lydia bit her lip, and croaked, looking at him with wide eyes that she kept averting and bringing back to him as if she was hesitant to elaborate, “Sometimes. Alec is…”

She scoffed bitterly, and her teeth were tightened together as she bit the words out, “Alec is ‘ _saving’_ me…For when he gets a hold of me. Keeps men away…Its been that way for years and years. But as long as I can pay the taxes they take…He promised to keep away.”

Mando stared at her, into her eyes that held so much anger and fear. Mando gestured to the sword under her dress and asked, “Ever think to castrate him?”

Her eyes widened at the words, face flushing bright red as she shook her head hurriedly, “No…No, I mean – I’ve thought of fighting back of course, everyone has. My father tried so hard and so did others that died with him. But Alec…He has too many people. There’s like over fifty of them armed in their…I dunno…Cult compound thing, camp…They constantly take girls from the town to keep there, to pleasure their men.”

Mando scoffed, “Then why does Alec care so much about who he gets?”

Lydia looked at him in the face, her expression pained, “He thinks I’m ‘pretty’. I knew him when I was a child, even if he was four years older…It’s a small town…Our friends would play together, he was kind then – bossy, but kind. Now he just wants, and is greedy like his father before him, and his father, and his father.”

Mando thought she was pretty too – and he felt even shittier about kissing her without warning. He looked away from her, unable to take the way her face looked…resisting the urge to chase Ulysses down and shoot him on the spot just to send a message to this Alec guy. Suddenly Lydia’s thought finished…

“I suppose all children are innocent…Until one day they’re not.”

Mando agreed. Before the droids had come that day, he too had been innocent. Even if he could hardly remember a time like that. Mando spoke quietly to her, “I can help you.”

Her face was slightly taken aback by the words, and she let out a surprised breath, “Don’t worry for me, Mando. I’ve been doing this for years.”

Mando thought…Well he thought that only made him angrier. She stepped around him, going back into the kitchen and he stood there a few moments, truly considering going and killing Ulysses like his leg wasn’t still broken. But he felt with enough adrenaline he could probably run. He stared at the door, fuming, thinking of the fact that Lydia had been here – living in fear of these people, unable to do anything with the knowledge that they had overpowered her father and the others that had tried to rebel against them. Oppression pissed him off – men that took what didn’t belong to them. They weren’t men, they were pieces of shit.

But then he heard her voice call from the kitchen…Gentle, and kind as if what had happened hadn’t…

“Wanna come help me get the dough ready?!”

And Mando slowly turned…Heading back into the kitchen.

The rest of the day was spent mulling around, the bread eventually finished and served with dinner. Mando tried not to dwell too much, because it didn’t seem Lydia was dwelling on it at all. Maybe it was true, maybe she really was used to it, but him…Mando was just pissed off beyond belief about the whole thing and spent too much time letting it boil under his skin as he and Lydia sat near the fire eating. He watched her down the food, her hair a little frizzy from the rain humidity. When she looked at him, he looked away as not to get accused of staring like he usually did. She spoke with her mouth full, “Is the bread good?”

“Yeah,” Mando replied quickly.

“I thought so too,” She answered, “Maybe I’ll do a less sweet version next time.”

She stood, taking his empty bowl as well as she disappeared. Mando listened to her turn on the sink, and he watched the fire flicker in front of him. He wondered what would happen when he left the planet…Maybe he could…Get rid of the men before he left. So that he could know she would be safe there. Not constantly trying to pay taxes just so she would not be taken against her will to some compound to be used as a toy. He was tired, the weather had made the day feel longer for some reason, and his leg ached a bit he supposed from the weather as well –

Lydia emerged from the kitchen suddenly and asked, “Do you want to try and shower tonight?”

Mando looked at her, eyes wide and he questioned, “What?”

“I think you can probably stand in the shower now,” Lydia came out and handed his crutches to him, “I’ll put something over your splint so it won’t get wet.”

Mando hesitated, before he was suddenly standing taking the crutches. He had not confirmed or denied whether he wanted to do it, before she was leading him back to the refresher. Mando went along, his face confused as he followed her inside and she had some kind of plastic wrap in her hands. She turned to face him – ordering, “Strip.”

Her voice was so…nonchalant and Mando still hadn’t gotten used to being bare in front of her…Especially after that night. He did not understand – very little of him did as he wondered how it wasn’t uncomfortable for her now too ever since he had…Kissed her. Mando stood there a few moments as she busied herself with the plastic before he set the crutches against the sink, and his hands hesitantly started with his shirt, slipping it over his head with ease. Mando wouldn’t look at her, despite her not even watching him get naked, and yet he still felt…Uncomfortable removing his pants. He stood bare in front of her – and nearly flinched back when she kneeled down in front of him, causing him to tense suddenly as she started putting the plastic over the splint.

Mando looked at the wall, until her eyes lifted suddenly and he stared down at her. She leaned back, and his mind went to that awful place as she spoke, “Okay, this should keep the splint dry.”

She stood, and Mando swallowed thickly. She must have noticed his discomfort, because finally she reacted – her cheeks flushing a bit as she cleared her throat and nodded to the door, saying, “I’m gonna…Leave you to it. Just yell if you need me.”

Mando nodded mutely and she scurried from the room, the door shutting behind her. He sighed, hobbling to the shower with that stupid plastic wrap on his leg as he turned it on, a hot spray coming out almost instantly. Mando stepped in, allowing it to pour over him and scald his skin, pressing a hand into the tile of the shower as he lowered his head and sighed again…Pushing the terrible thoughts of her from his head…Of her kneeling, of that night with his mouth to hers – the way he had been able to pull her into his lap so easily, and reach under her skirt and –

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Mando touched himself, immediately feeling ashamed. Underneath his skin and his mind, he knew it to be wrong – even as his fingers slid over the hardness…His hand tugging and he stifled a moan, shutting his mouth tightly as he lowered his head further – opening his mouth in the slightest to breathe. He felt the tug under his stomach, felt the heat rise in his spine as he wrapped his hand around himself, beginning to stroke and move, and as hard as he tried, he could not get the feeling of his hands on her skin from his mind…Shameful, and terrible, especially after she had shared that she was already being objectified by that asshole. But maybe he was just as cruel.

He didn’t stop though, thumb sliding over his tip and he pressed his forehead to the cool tile, a silent sound leaving his opened lips. He braced himself, hand shaking as he worked, wishing things weren’t the way they were. Wishing he could have hated her like he had wanted to. Wishing he could have despised her for taking off his helmet. He felt like some stupid teenager, unable to control the urges. Stroking faster and faster and faster until he was panting, restraining himself from being too loud. Mando groaned, “Damn it…”

Fucking himself in the shower to the thoughts of a girl that probably didn’t… – right…He _was_ like a hormonal teenager. A complete dickhead. Imagining how soft she would be, how warm, how different from himself. What sounds she would make, like that soft whimper she had left out when they had kissed. He wanted to hear it again, he wanted to hear it louder when he did. He wanted her to dig her fingernails into his skin and trail him with marks and he wanted to bite into her.

When he came, he bit down on his tongue so hard he tasted blood, spilling into the shower and he leaned even heavier into the wall then, wanting to drive his fist through it. He wanted her – in the worst fucking possible way, beneath his body. But then he thought of how he had dared to kiss her pretty face. How it was not meant for someone like him. His own mouth rough, hands calloused, and a coldness beneath his skin that could not be cured, no matter if she forced him to bake with her every day.

Mando cursed again – and again – and again.

…

When Lydia got him from the refresher, he seemed…off.

She assumed he was just tired, as she helped him get the plastic wrap off of him. Someone’s first shower after being bed bound for weeks could be exhausting. But he seemed more upset than anything, but she did not push it. Sometimes he would get in foul moods in the evenings and wake up a bit better the next day. But she had found he always was a bit grumpy anyway, as she helped him to lay down on the bed, adjusting the pillows and blankets around him to make him more comfortable. She glanced at his face, and she asked him, “No accidents, yeah?”

Mando’s eyes flashed to hers and he shook his head, “No.”

“Good,” Lydia sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, her knee turned to the side on the mattress where she faced him. “I’ve had patients faint in the shower and it’s always a huge mess to get them out. I would almost rather someone start bleeding out.”

Mando only hummed. Lydia swallowed a bit and tilted her head, pushing his arm in a playful manner as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

His head shook and he said nothing, looking at her and she pushed, “C’mon…We had a good day, you and me. Sometimes rainy days are needed. And last night we saw the jellies…I was hoping you’d go to bed happy tonight, instead of like the nights I force you to work on the com or play card games.”

“I don’t mind the card games,” He mumbled under his breath.

Lydia frowned, “Then what is it? Was it Ulysses? I swear, I meant what I said, I’m used to it. This isn’t the first time they’ve come here to push me back in line. One time, the butcher asked me on a date and you would have thought –“

“Lydia,” His eyes found hers, dark and warning, making her stiffen where she sat beside his body propped against the headboard…

“Don’t talk about them anymore tonight. Or I’m going to go kill them.”

Lydia’s chest expanded, then shrunk in shock…

“Oh,” Lydia croaked weakly, shaking a bit.

Truthfully, she would not be sad if they died. They were tied so closely to her terrors, her nightmares, that she could not imagine a universe without her darkest fears breathing. But they had survived so long – she could not imagine Mando winning, especially with his leg, causing her to argue, “Don’t think that way…I’ve seen people go against them…It never works.”

She nearly jumped when she felt his calloused fingers…Like that night he had hesitantly pushed them against her knee. Under her skirt and up her thigh to squeeze her. Instead it was against her dress, his thumb pushing to expose her upper leg, and she swallowed thickly. She thought…if he tried again, she didn’t know if she would move away. Her mouth parted in the slightest, continuing to tremble. Maybe she did want to taste his lips again – but she didn’t know –

His hand opened, palm big enough to envelope a large portion of her thigh over a scar there. His eyes met hers and he squeezed gently, asking…

“What’s that from?”

Lydia blinked rapidly, her heart pounding…

“It’s,” She paused, almost wishing he’d slide his hand higher, but pushing the desire down to go on, “…It was a warning. From Alec…Forever ago.”

Mando squeezed again, and she nearly melted into it. He was still boring into her eyes, digging and his hand slid a bit further up, until it was against her hip under her dress. He did not move towards the warmth between her legs, and instead grabbed her hip tightly and tugged her forward a bit to where he was leaning on the headboard, and his head tilted back in just the slightest, throat bobbing. She braced herself on his bare abdomen, looking into his features as well before she whispered softly…

“Your eyes are too gentle to be a bounty hunter.”

Mando’s jaw clenched and unclenched, his hand on her hip squeezing so tight it almost hurt but in a good way…

“You’re not looking close enough,” He murmured, voice rough as if he had been sleeping.

True…She had seen something different when he had grabbed her throat and put his bare body against her that night.

“The helmet,” She murmured as if in a daze, gazes locked with each other as if waiting for the other person to relent and look away…And she did when his thumb started to massage into her hip and the outer portion of her thigh. She went on with her eyes shut, “Had you…Had you ever kissed someone?”

If he had never taken it off in front of someone well – it would make sense –

“No,” Mando replied simply.

Her eyes opened. She didn’t know if that made her happy or not. Maybe sad, knowing one day he would leave and she would never see him again and he felt so good touching her. His hands felt too knowledgeable for him not to have slept with someone though…She knew that to be true. You didn’t have to kiss to have sex. But she just wanted to kiss him, to feel him touching her. It didn’t even have to be sexual if he didn’t want that, she just wanted that closeness. Lydia leaned forward slowly and carefully, and he didn’t move…Looking as if he was frightened to do so…Barely breathing as his eyes remained on hers, both of their mouths parted in the slightest. She was inches from him before she finally closed the gap, pressing a gentle, almost chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

As if testing it.

His hand on her hip grabbed her again and pulled her upward, guiding her to straddle his waist. She didn’t know what to do with her hands as his own grabbed both sides of her hips and brought her down to sit. So she put her own on his shoulders, leaning forward again, another chaste kiss on his mouth, before she deepened it a bit…Pushing and moving her lips against his. His hands were still bruising, as if restraining himself from touching elsewhere under her dress, but she felt his thumb playing with the hem of her underwear there…Going no further than toying with the lace.

Her hands slid from his shoulders to his neck, before carding in his hair as he took over the kiss, opening his mouth and he released one hip to take the back of her head, leaning forward to wrap into her hair. Lydia took in a deep breath through her nose, unable to breathe as he kissed harder and harder. She removed her mouth, kissing his cheek, before she went to his neck in an attempt to calm him. Neither of them spoke, and she didn’t know if it was truly pleasure they were feeling or if it was more so curiosity, tasting each other as they kept their hands to themselves for the most part. Testing the waters they had formed between them.

She nipped at his collar bone, going back to his mouth – and she lifted her hips in the slightest, bringing them down and –

Mando grabbed her hair and pulled her back from the kiss. It wasn’t painful, but he was breathing heavily as he rasped out thickly…

“We have to stop.”

Lydia felt her stomach drop, her lips swollen a bit as she nodded her head, “O-Okay…Did I…Did I do something wrong?”

His head shook, eyes closing as he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to it, before assisting her in getting off of his lap. He muttered, still holding his eyes shut, “No…No…Not at all. We just need to stop.”

“Did I –“

“Lydia,” His eyes found hers and he spoke bluntly, giving her the answer to stop her stuttered apology that was on the tip of her tongue, “If we don’t stop now… _I_ won’t stop.”

Lydia exhaled, and sat on the edge of the bed where he had removed her from him. She responded lamely as she often did with, “Oh.”

She eyed the other side of the bed…The portion closest to the wall. She stood from where she was sitting, wringing her hands as she asked, “Do you…Do you need something?”

He looked at her, as if bewildered by the question before he shook his head, “No Lydia…I don’t need anything.”

“Okay…okay, well I-I’m gonna…I’m gonna take a shower.”

She grabbed a nightgown quickly and retreated to the refresher, face burning with embarrassment. The moment she was stripped down, she hopped into the shower – trying to burn her skin. So much for pretending a few nights ago had never happened…Though she should have known such a feat would be futile. Not after the way it had felt. Not after he had stopped trying so hard to hate her. She scrubbed her skin and her hair, trying to shove the feelings away before she got out and slipped the clothing on. When she went to the sink and used her palm to remove the haze from the mirror, she had expected almost to see an entirely different person there, but it wasn’t. It was her. And she had kissed him this time, and his hands had held her so tightly and she just…She had felt safe for the first time in forever.

Maybe she had pushed too much – but she had liked it. And she wished…she almost wished he had not stopped them. But then a part of her knew they were treading in dangerous territory. A world of feelings she had, and knowing his departure was only imminent. Knowing advancements on her part could scream danger to both herself and Mando from Alec. But a part of her…A part didn’t care. As if it had been drawn out while sitting over him with her lips on his skin.

But she had removed his helmet, and maybe this attachment – sudden and strange was only temporary.

Lydia left the refresher, her hair still dripping a bit as she moved into the main room…Shutting off a few of the lights. Mando was laying in the bed, facing away but she knew he wasn’t asleep as they were brought into dim darkness. Instead of grabbing her bed roll though…She hesitantly approached where he had his back turned to her…Slowly reaching out to touch his skin…His spine…

She felt him tense.

“Mando?”

He rolled over slowly, the bed creaking. He looked up at where she was standing and she leaned down, whispering to him as if it was a secret…Like two children doing something shameful.

“Could I lay with you tonight?”

It was a bold question. She didn’t even know if his feelings went past the touching. If he felt anything other than lust. He looked a bit…confused at first. But he did not look disgusted or angry or annoyed. Maybe a bit awkward as he nodded his head mutely at her, before slowly sliding himself closer to the side near the wall. She felt…relief when he pulled back the blanket, inviting her under and she actually smiled at the invitation before slipping in. She didn’t push herself close, and he laid there, looking at her in the darkness – the reflection of his eyes being visible as he studied her.

Lydia questioned him softly…

“Should I have done that?”

Mando cleared his throat, “Do you think you should have?”

Lydia inhaled.

“I think…I think that when I was doing that with you, I felt I was starving.”

Her hair was wetting the pillow, but she didn’t mind. She had wanted to lie down with him. Just to lay there and look at him a bit without the distance of the floor. She needed to be sure she was still on that planet, still in that cottage, awake and alive – without the loneliness that had been her life out there in the woods, far from the town with a looming shadow over her head. Mando said, “I thought we were ignoring what happened. Pretending.”

Lydia could only grimace.

“Pretending…is so, so exhausting. Even if…If I don’t know what I feel.”

Neither of them touched each other. And Lydia was the first to fall asleep. But sometime in the midst of her slumber, she swore she felt Mando lean forward and she heard a rough voice murmur to her…

_“I don’t know what I feel either.”_


End file.
